Harry Potter and the Wandless Magic
by danielsmith527
Summary: When Harry was bitten by the basilisk, the venom destroyed the Horcrux in his head, but Fawkes saves Harry's life. Accidental magic begins to happen around him and not all of its consequences are good. Only with the help of Hermione and some new friends and allies can he learn to master his newfound power. He only hopes it's enough to save him from the Dementors and Sirius Black.
1. Chapter 1: Venom and Tears

_This is my first attempt at fanfiction so please have some patience. In the first couple chapters there will be sections of text directly from the book, but they will be in_ **bold.** _I don't do this to plagiarize. I just thought this was the best way to get the ball rolling. There definitely won't be text directly from the book after the initial start to the events of Prisoner of Azkaban. Thanks._

 **All rights for Harry Potter and characters go to J.K. Rowling.**

* * *

The ancient basilisk lay dead a dozen feet away and the last remnants of Tom Riddle's solidified memory had be blown apart. Once again, the school was saved from Voldemort. Ginny would be safe from the dark magic in Riddle's Diary.

 _If only I wasn't dying_ , Harry thought.

Harry dropped to his knees, his vision blurry as the basilisk venom slowly made its way through his veins. He had no idea how long he had left but his senses began to fade away. Hermione would know. She always knew. Although she would probably be crying if she saw him like this.

"Harry?" Ginny sounded so far away. "Harry it wasn't my fault. Riddle made me. Harry? Oh Harry!"

"Get to Ron," he managed to say.

Pain unlike anything he had ever known spiked in his scar. It felt like his head was being split open.

"You fool!" A cold voice shouted somewhere in his mind. "You've killed us both!"

The internal voice screamed in agony and Harry's own scream mimicked the voice as it tore through the silence of the Chamber. Deep within him, pain exploded in his chest. It felt like someone had reached inside him and peeled away his heart and stuffed fire in its place. He heard Ginny scream in terror but could do nothing but writhe on the floor.

Someone cool and soothing touched his head. It must have been wet because he felt it sliding down his face. It mingled with a black tar-like substance oozing out of his scar.

"Harry let me help you," Ginny said as she pulled him up to his knees.

The pain was suddenly gone, replaced by a strange numbness around his scar. Harry had no more time to ponder this as he pitched forward and the world went black.

Whispers slowly guided him back from the blissful oblivion of sleep. For the first time in a long time, he had not dreamt at all. He cracked his eyes open and was surprised to find that he could see perfectly.

Hermione sat beside his bed, reading from their Transfiguration textbook. Her hand held his gently and he could tell she had been crying recently. When had she woken up? Why was she crying? Did Ginny die?

* * *

"Who died?" he asked.

Hermione jumped. "Harry! You're awake. Professors, come quick."

Dumbledore and McGonagall stepped into view and halted at the foot of his bed.

"How are you feeling, Harry?"

"Sore."

"Well, that's to be expected," Madam Pomfrey said as she waved her wand several times over Harry's body.

"How's Ginny?" he asked.

"She fine and back at her dorm. She feels terrible about all this so go easy on her when you see her."

"Well, I wasn't going to yell at her or anything. She made a mistake."

"Indeed. A mistake made by many who have been hoodwinked by Voldemort. Anything new, Poppy?" Dumbledore asked.

"No, just the same," the Healer replied, giving Harry an odd look.

"The same as what?" Harry snapped.

"Harry," Hermone scolded. "I know you've been hurt but be respectful."

"I'm not hurt. I'm just not being told something. Again." His eyes locked with Dumbledore's.

"You have my most sincere apologies about what has happened this year, Harry. A 12-year-old boy shouldn't have to bear the burden of facing a basilisk of all things."

"Why didn't anyone else figure it out? Why is it Hermione who is 13 the only one who figured out that it was a basilisk? I know she's wicked smart but come on."

Hermione blushed.

Dumbledore pursed his lips. "Harry, I understand that you have been through an ordeal. Once you have had a chance to calm down, we will discuss this calmly."

The Headmaster turned to leave. Harry felt something hot bubble up inside him. How dare he just dismiss him like that. They were logical questions that would make even Hermione proud. They were simple too. Dumbledore was hiding something and Harry was sick of being lied to.

"No!" Harry screamed, launching himself off the bed. Wild magic crackled on his skin and his hands balled into fists. He wanted nothing more than to unleash the power that was boiling over inside him.

"No more lies, Dumbledore."

"Potter, calm down," McGonagall finally spoke up.

"No. I won't calm down. I won't be silent. I won't be dismissed. I have a right to know."

"You aren't ready to know."

Dumbledore's words set him back. It was one thing to tell him that they would talk when he calmed down. It was quite another to tear that away under the guise that he wasn't old enough to know something so important.

"Are you telling me that me, someone who just almost died fighting a basilisk and has faced down Voldemort three times now, aren't old enough to know. Something happened down in the Chamber of Secrets and you know something about it. You're not leaving until you tell me why."

"You have to trust me, Harry. It's for the Greater Good that I don't—"

"Why would I trust you?"

"Potter!" Mcgonagall snapped. "Apologize now."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "As Headmaster I would hope that you trust me to do what's best for you."

Harry took a step forward. The power was all around him, begging to be used.

The Headmaster held his wand casually at his side. "Harry, please don't make me have to resort to stunning you."

He opened his mouth to shout back at the old wizard but felt Hermione's hand on his shoulder. It spoke volumes of comfort, friendship and understanding. In the blink of an eye, the power left him but not before cracking the floor on either side of him and bending the metal frames of three beds.

"What's happening to him, Professor?" Hermione asked.

Dumbledore sighed. "Alas, I do not know. It would seem that Harry simply got caught up in his emotions and had a bout of accidental magic. No one was harmed so I think we can agree that no discipline will be necessary."

Harry knew he should thank him but couldn't find the kindness to do so. The anger was mostly gone but he still felt that his words were justified.

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione spoke for him. "I'm sure that Harry is very grateful. Right, Harry?"

"Yea," Harry droned.

"You had best get some more rest, my boy. We will talk later and I promise I will have some answers for you when we do." With that, he and Mcgonagall left the Hospital Wing.

Harry climbed back into bed and lay back on the pillow.

"What are you thinking?" his best female friend asked.

"I still don't trust him. Something is wrong with me. Something inside me is broken. I feel like something is missing but something else has taken its place. Now I have accidental magic. What's wrong with me?"

She grabbed his hand. "Nothing, Harry. You're the best person I know. We'll figure this out together."

He nodded. "Where's Ron?"

With a sigh, she opened her Transfiguration book back up. "He came to see you right after you were brought here. I tried getting him to come again but he said he didn't like seeing you unconscious like last year. He's a prat."

After a few minutes of silence, he said, "But you came to see me. I bet you haven't left since you woke up."

A tinge of pink colored her cheeks. "Well, I couldn't let you be lonely here, could I? I mean after all you visited me every night and held my hand too."

Harry stiffened. "You could tell I was there?"

Hermione nodded. "Not all the time, but sometimes I got the feeling that something familiar was there. It helped. Plus, Madam Pomfrey told me that you snuck in here every night."

He closed his eyes and hoped that she thought he was fast asleep.

"Harry."

"Yea?"

"It's ok that you held my hand. You don't have to be ashamed of visiting me either. It was really sweet of you." She leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

His eyes bulged.

"I'll see you tomorrow. Get some rest."

He nodded and watched her go. Reaching up to his cheek, he touched the spot where she had kissed him. Her lips had been so soft and it had sent a thrill through him that confused him. Maybe he would ask her about it later.

 _No,_ he told himself. _It would just make things awkward. That's probably how loving families act. It's not like I would know._

The thought of returning to the Dursleys soon was enough to put him back in his foul mood. He hoped that tomorrow would get him some answers from Dumbledore and some much-needed time with his friends.


	2. Chapter 2: A Meeting with Dumbledore

**Everything in bold is directly from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. This is to _hopefully_ avoid confusion or messing up the dialogue. There shouldn't be much more once the events of Chamber of Secrets are over. All rights for Harry Potter and characters go to J.K. Rowling.**

"Alright, Mr. Potter, you're free to go," Madam Pomfrey announce.

Harry threw himself off the bed and dashed out of the Hospital Wing.

"Come back if you feel anything strange!" she called after him.

He made his way to the Great Hall, carrying his dirty robes with him. A glance down at his pants and shoes made realize that they probably smelled like a dank old chamber would smell after not being opened much for 1,000 years.

Upon nearing the Griffandor table, his eyes found Ron and the red-haired boy paled when he saw him. The bushy-haired girl opposite him turned to see what he was looking at and her face blossomed into a wide grin.

"Harry!" she gave him a quick hug before he sat down.

"Look mate," Ron began. "I'm sorry I didn't come see you when you were in there. I just—"

"Forget about it," Harry interrupted with a shrug.

The rest of the meal was eaten with little silence as Ron and Hermione filled him in on Dumbledore's announcement that all students, Mrs. Norris and Sir Nicholas were back to their normal selves.

"Guess he didn't want to mention anything about the basilisk," Harry grumbled.

"Well the parents are gonna be scared enough as it is," Ron reminded him. "If Dumbledore says that the monster has been dealt with, they'll take it for that. I mean, he's Dumbledore."

"He's still human," Hermione put in.

Harry gave her a grateful smile. "I've still got to talk to him later."

Hermione chewed her bottom lip.

"Don't worry. I've called down a lot. I know I was out of line even if he is keeping things from me. I'll apologize."

The witch gave him a small smile and squeezed his hand. "That's very mature of you, Harry. I'm glad you're keeping a handle on your emotions especially considering what happened."

"What happened?"

Harry glanced at Hermione, surprised she hadn't told Ron. It was nice that she had kept this little secret from him if only to spare him some embarrassment from his other best friend. It's not like Ron had accidental magic in front of the Headmaster.

"I got really mad when I woke up and Dumbledore wouldn't tell me things about what was going on. I lost control of my magic but Hermione calmed me down."

"Blimey. Glad I didn't show up then. You might've been cheesed off at me too."

"Yea, there was already a crowd there," Hermione said.

"Thanks for reminder." Harry saw Dumbledore walk away from the staff table and stood up to follow him.

"Herbology start in fifteen minutes. Make sure you get a note from Dumbledore if you're going to be late."

He gave her half a wave. That was Hermione—always making sure he got out of trouble. This made him remember that Dumbledore had told him and Ron that if they got into any more trouble, they would be expelled. Dumbledore wouldn't really expel him, would he? Not after he had just saved the school from Slytherin's monster.

Harry caught up to Dumbledore just before he got the stone gargoyle.

"Professor Dumbledore!"

The Headmaster turned with a look of mild surprise. "Harry. What can I do for you?"

"Well, you said you wanted to speak with me about this when I've calmed down. I'm calm, and I'm sorry I lost my temper before."

"Very well." Dumbledore waved his hand and the stone gargoyle moved without the need for the 'Sherbert Lemon' password.

"Sir, can all wizards do magic without a wand?"

"An interesting question with an even more interesting answer. No, few wizards can and those that can are limited by low level spells. Even I, reputed to be powerful, am limited to disarming spells at best. Although I've never truly tested my limits, I'm certain that I could not produce the same results as I could with my wand."

Harry nodded as he sat down opposite Dumbledore.

"Harry, do you remember anything about what happened after you stabbed Tom Riddle's Diary with the basilisk fang?" Dumbledore asked immediately.

"I felt a lot of pain in my scar and in my chest. Fawkes cried on me and that made the pain go away before I passed out."

"Have you ever felt anything like this from your scar?"

"No. Never." He hesitated. "There was something else or rather someone else."

"Oh?"

"In my head. It sounded like Voldemort but his voice was so much clearer than when I met him last year. Of course, this time he wasn't on the back of a head so I can't really be sure."

"Interesting. What did the voice say?"

"Um something like I was a fool for dooming us both."

Dumbledore leaned forward. "Harry, can you remember the exact wording. Anything could be very important."

Harry thought for a moment. "You fool. You've killed us both."

A haunted look passed through Dumbledore's eyes for a fleeting moment. "I will look into that for both our sakes. Some things even I can't be sure of and sadly, the only one who could tell us would be Voldemort himself.

 **"Professor Dumbledore... Riddle said I'm like him. Strange likenesses, he said...**

 **"Did he, now?" said Dumbledore, looking thoughtfully at Harry from under his thick silver eyebrows. "And what do you think, Harry?"**

 **"I don't think I'm like him!" said Harry, more loudly than he'd intended. "I mean, I'm - I'm in Gryffindor, I'm..."**

 **But he fell silent, a lurking doubt resurfacing in his mind.**

 **"Professor," he started again after a moment. "The Sorting Hat told me I'd - I'd have done well in Slytherin. Everyone thought I was Slytherin's heir for a while... because I can speak Parseltongue ..."**

 **"You can speak Parseltongue, Harry," said Dumbledore calmly, "because Lord Voldemort - who is the last remaining ancestor of Salazar Slytherin - can speak Parseltongue. Unless I'm much mistaken, he transferred some of his own powers to you the night he gave you that scar. Not something he intended to do, I'm sure..."**

 **"Voldemort put a bit of himself in me?" Harry said, thunderstruck.**

 **"It certainly seems so.** There is indeed a connection or rather, I think there was."

"Was?"

"I believe that the memory of Tom Riddle and the connection that was in your scar have now been destroyed thanks to the basilisk venom. It was good thinking on your part to use the fang on the diary. I dread to think of what might have otherwise happened. It was a good stroke of luck that you were bitten as well because of the power he gave you."

 **"So I should be in Slytherin," Harry said, looking desperately into Dumbledore's face. "The Sorting Hat could see Slytherin's power in me, and it-"**

 **"Put you in Gryffindor," said Dumbledore calmly. "Listen to me, Harry. You happen to have many qualities Salazar Slytherin prized in his hand-picked students. His own very rare gift, Parseltongue - resourcefulness - determination - a certain disregard for rules," he added, his mustache quivering again. "Yet the Sorting Hat placed you in Gryffindor. You know why that was. Think."**

 **"It only put me in Gryffindor," said Harry in a defeated voice, "because I asked not to go in Slytherin..."**

 **`Exactly, "said Dumbledore, beaming once more. "Which makes you very different from Tom Riddle. It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities." Harry sat motionless in his chair, stunned. "If you want proof, Harry, that you belong in Gryffindor, I suggest you look more closely at this."**

 **Dumbledore reached across to** his **desk, picked up the silver sword, and handed it to Harry. Dully, Harry turned it over, the rubies blazing in the firelight. And then he saw the name engraved just below the hilt.**

 **Godric Gryffindor**

 **"Only a true Gryffindor could have pulled that out of the hat, Harry," said Dumbledore simply.**

"Thank you, sir," Harry managed to say.

Harry got up and crossed to the door. He had just reached for the handle, however, when the door burst open so violently that it bounced back off the wall.

Lucius Malfoy stood there, fury in his face. And cowering behind his legs, heavily wrapped in bandages, was Dobby.

"Good evening, Lucius," said Dumbledore pleasantly.

Mr. Malfoy almost knocked Harry over as he swept into the room. Dobby went scurrying in after him, crouching at the hem of his cloak, a look of abject terror on his face.

The elf was carrying a stained rag with which he was attempting to finish cleaning Mr. Malfoys shoes. Apparently Mr. Malfoy had set out in a great hurry, for not only were his shoes half-polished, but his usually sleek hair was disheveled. Ignoring the elf bobbing apologetically around his ankles, he fixed his cold eyes upon Dumbledore.

Harry felt the fury rising in him again but just barely managed to stamp it down. How dare he treat Dobby that way. Sure the little guy was quirky but that didn't give Malfoy a right to beat him. In that moment, he understood Dobby in some ways that others never would. He had been treating like a house elf all his life by the Dursleys. At least he could escape to Hogwarts. Dobby had no escape.

Harry listened at the door as Lucius Malfoy and Dumbledore spoke about the diary and that Lord Voldemort had once again been thwarted. The young wizard knew that it had been Mr. Malfoy that had put the diary in Ginny's pail in Diagon Alley but had no way to prove it.

Eventually, Lucius had seen that he would not be finding anything to his liking in the conversation with Dumbledore. **Harry distinctly saw his right hand twitch as though he was longing to reach for his wand. Instead, he turned to his house-elf. "We're going, Dobby!"**

 **He wrenched open the door and as the elf came hurrying up to him, he kicked him right through it. They could hear Dobby squealing with pain all the way along the corridor. Harry stood for a moment, thinking hard. Then it came to him-**

 **"Professor Dumbledore," he said hurriedly. "Can I give that diary back to Mr. Malfoy, please?"**

 **"Certainly, Harry," said Dumbledore calmly. "But hurry. Harry grabbed the diary and dashed out of the office. He could hear Dobby's squeals of pain receding around the corner. Quickly, wondering if this plan could possibly work, Harry took off one of his shoes, pulled off his slimy, filthy sock, and stuffed the diary into it. Then he ran down the dark corridor.**

 **He caught up with them at the top of the stairs.**

 **"Mr. Malfoy," he gasped, skidding to a halt, "I've got something for you-"**

 **And he forced the smelly sock into Lucius Malfoy's hand.**

 **"What the -?"**

 **Mr. Malfoy ripped the sock off the diary, threw it aside, then looked furiously from the ruined book to Harry."You'll meet the same sticky end as your parents one of these days, Harry Potter," he said softly. "They were meddlesome fools, too."**

 **He turned to go.**

 **"Come, Dobby. I said, come."**

 **But Dobby didn't move. He was holding up Harry's disgusting, slimy sock, and looking at it as though it were a priceless treasure.**

 **"Master has given a sock," said the elf in wonderment. "Master gave it to Dobby."**

 **"What's that?" spat Mr. Malfoy. "What did you say?"**

 **"Got a sock," said Dobby in disbelief. "Master threw it, and Dobby caught it, and Dobby - Dobby is free."**

 **Lucius Malfoy stood frozen, staring at the elf. Then he lunged at Harry.**

 **"You've lost me my servant, boy!"**

 **But Dobby shouted, "You shall not harm Harry Potter!"**

 **There was a loud bang, and Mr. Malfoy was thrown backward. He crashed down the stairs, three at a time, landing in a crumpled heap on the landing below. He got up, his face livid, and pulled out his wand, but Dobby raised a long, threatening finger.**

 **"You shall go now," he said fiercely, pointing down at Mr. Malfoy. "You shall not touch Harry Potter. You shall go now."**

 **Lucius Malfoy had no choice. With a last, incensed stare at the pair of them, he swung his cloak around him and hurried out of sight.**

 **"Harry Potter freed Dobby!" said the elf shrilly, gazing up at Harry, moonlight from the nearest window reflected in his orb-like eyes. "Harry Potter set Dobby free!"**

 **"Least I could do, Dobby," said Harry, grinning. "Just promise never to try and save my life again."**

 **The elf's ugly brown face split suddenly into a wide, toothy smile.**

 **"I've just got one question, Dobby," said Harry as Dobby pulled on Harry's sock with shaking hands. "You told me all this had nothing to do with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, remember? Well-"**

 **"It was a clue, sir," said Dobby, his eyes widening, as though this was obvious. "Was giving you a clue. The Dark Lord, before he changed his name, could be freely named, you see?"**

 **Dobby threw his arms around Harry's middle and hugged him.**

 **"Harry Potter is greater by far than Dobby knew!" he sobbed. "Farewell, Harry Potter!"**

 **And with a final loud crack, Dobby disappeared.**

* * *

 **The rest of the final term passed in a haze of blazing sunshine. Hogwarts was back to normal with only a few, small differences - Defense Against the Dark Arts classes were canceled ("but we've had plenty of practice at that anyway," Ron told a disgruntled Hermione) and Lucius Malfoy had been sacked as a school governor. Draco was no longer strutting around the school as though he owned the place. On the contrary, he looked resentful and sulky. On the other hand, Ginny Weasley was perfectly happy again.**

 **Too soon, it was time for the journey home on the Hogwarts Express. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and Ginny got a compartment to themselves. They made the mos of the last few hours in which they were allowed to do magic before the holidays. They played Exploding Snap, set off the very last of Fred and George's Filibuster fireworks, and practiced disarming each other by magic. Harry was getting very good at it.**

Each time he did however, he felt a surge of his magic unlike any he had before. He casually levitated his book to himself using Wingardium Leviosa and felt a similar flow of magic. For some reason he could feel his magic leaving him when he cast a spell now. It didn't make him feel weak, but he definitely noticed it leaving. The difference was almost like he was a lake and knew when someone took a pail of water from him.

 **The Hogwarts Express slowed and finally stopped at King's Cross.**

 **Harry pulled out his quill and a bit of parchment and turned to Ron and Hermione.**

 **"This is called a telephone number," he told Ron, scribbling it twice, tearing the parchment in two, and handing it to them. "I told your dad how to use a telephone last summer - he'll know. Call me at the Dursleys', okay? I can't stand another two months with only Dudley to talk to..."**

 **"Your aunt and uncle will be proud, though, won't they?" said Hermione as they got off the train and joined the crowd thronging toward the enchanted barrier. "When they hear what you did this year?"**

 **"Proud?" said Harry. "Are you crazy? All those times I could've died, and I didn't manage it? They'll be furious..."**

 **And together they walked back through the gateway to the Muggle world.**


	3. Chapter 3: Aunt Marge's Visit

_Author's Note_ **:** Yes, this will be a Harmony fic though that won't be til much later. If some of it seemed a little strong in the first chapter, it's only to pave the way for the future

development of their relationship.

At this point, I'm not sure who Harry will be trusting besides Hermione. Watch and see.

The basilisk venom not destroying the Horcrux in Harry has always bothered me as one of the loopholes so I'm glad to see I'm not alone in wondering what might have happened if it had.

 **Everything in bold is directly from Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. All rights for Harry Potter and characters go to J.K. Rowling.**

* * *

Harry sat in his room at Number Four Privet Drive in Surrey. With his eyes closed, he tried to concentrate on the magic within him. It had been nearly a week since he had killed the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets with the Sword of Gryffindor and defeated Voldemort for the 2nd time. It could be argued that he had done it for 3 times now, but Harry knew from Dumbledore that his mother's love had been the thing to save him from the killing curse when he was a baby.

As he moved further and further into the blazing fire that was his magical core, Harry could tell that something had once been wrong with it. Almost like the scars on his back and chest from Uncle Vernon's many beatings of him, there were thin scars on his magical core. Of course, being made entirely of magic, the scars were becoming fainter and fainter. Soon there would be no sign of them. What this meant Harry had no idea.

 _More to add to the list of things to ask Dumbledore_ , he thought.

Moving away from his magical core, Harry began to stretch out with the same sense he had directed inward. Ever since the train ride home from Hogwarts, he had noticed when magic left him. That had paled to his astonishment that he could feel a hint of magic in his room. There was also a hint in the cupboard under the stairs where his relatives had locked up his school things as soon as he was home. They were almost like echoes of his magic.

Harry wasn't sure if he could feel magic in the places where he had been simply because he had spent a bit of time there. It certainly made sense.

Even without the sensing of the magical echoes in the room, he could feel magic out in the yard and throughout the house. It was a different feeling, like scent of fresh air differs from the air inside the house. Both were breathable, but they simply smelled different.

One day, as he was thinking about these things while trimming the hedges, he found a small garden snake that was curled up in the cool earth. It hissed at him.

 _I wonder if I can still speak in Parseltongue now that the piece of Voldemort is out of my head._ He shrugged and decided to give it a try.

 _"Come on out,"_ he said, hoping for the best.

 _"You understand me?"_ a male voice hissed back in surprise.

 _"I can speak to snakes."_

 _"How strange for a warm-blood. Why must I move?"_

 _"Because the other . . . erm, warm-bloods will try to kill you if they see you under these bushes. They don't like things that slither."_

 _"I can understand. I don't like things that walk."_

 _"I'm not sure. I can only tell you that if anyone sees you, they'll try to—"_

 _"You're hissing at snakes again, freak,"_ a frightened voice whimpered behind him.

Harry's head snapped around to find his cousin, Dudley, standing there. He looked like he might be sick.

 _"It wanted to bite you, but I told it that it wouldn't want to ruin its appetite."_ Harry grinned as Dudley waddled off for the house as fast as his chubby legs could carry him. The young wizard's face fell just as quickly as it had risen. He would catch hell for that little stunt.

 _"Perhaps you are right about finding another place to rest,"_ the snake hissed. " _I should be on my way. Keep out of the sun, warm-blood or whatever it is you do not to die."_

Harry chuckled and made his way back into the house to face the bellowing of Uncle Vernon. Surprisingly, none came and Dudley was nowhere to be seen. With a shrug, Harry returned to do his chores outside. With any luck, he would finish them before dusk.

* * *

It was several days later before the routine of doing chores and being mostly ignored came to an end. The day was Harry's 13th birthday, not that Harry had ever received anything from his relatives. Dudley was the one that always received more and more presents every year, and the day was practically a national holiday in their house.

Uncle Vernon picked up his sister, the dreaded Aunt Marge, from the station. She sauntered in the front door like she owned the place and when she was around no one seemed inclined to correct her. She hugged and kissed Dudley who received a crisp 20-pound note from Uncle Vernon for acting like loving nephew.

Once they were all seated at the table, Aunt Marge went on and on about her dogs. The bulldog, Ripper that she had brought with her growled at Harry as he sat down. Marge finally realized Harry had sat down at the table. Harry had made an arrangement with Uncle Vernon before Marge had been picked up that if Harry behaved throughout Marge's visit, Vernon would sign Harry's permission form to visit Hogsmeade. It was a small village and third years and up could visit on some weekends out of the school year. Harry wasn't about to mess that up even if Marge was even more detestable than the rest of his relatives.

She even seemed irritated to find that he was still living with them at all. He really wanted to say that he'd be happier with living anywhere else.

Except with the Malfoys, he thought with a faint smirk. Unfortunately, this was exactly the wrong thing to do and sent Marge into a tizzy about how Harry hadn't improved at all since she last saw him. Uncle Vernon assured her that St. Brutus' School were caning him fiercely to knock some sense into him, but there were still some problems to be worked through. This seemed to please Marge who went on to inquire if he had been beaten often.

Uncle Vernon fixed him with a stare and gave him a quick nod.

"Oh, yeah," said Harry, "They beat me every chance they get."

 **"I still don't like your tone, boy," she said. "If you can speak of your beatings in that casual way, they clearly aren't hitting you hard enough. Petunia, I'd write if I were you. Make it clear that you approve the use of extreme force in this boy's case."**

Uncle Vernon cleared his throat and began discussing the recent events from the telly. She seemed exasperated that an escaped prisoner hadn't been apprehended quickly and someone should be simply fired for this. The discussion inevidently lead to her pronouncement that she would have the whole matter settled in an hour if she were in charge of things.

Harry had to suppress a groan. This would be a long two weeks.

* * *

 **As Aunt Marge started to make herself at home, Harry caught himself thinking almost longingly of life at number four without her. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia usually encouraged Harry to stay out of their way, which Harry was only too happy to do. Aunt Marge, on the other hand, wanted Harry under her eye at all times, so that she could boom out suggestions for his improvement. She delighted in comparing Harry with Dudley, and took huge pleasure in buying Dudley expensive presents while glaring at Harry, as though daring him to ask why he hadn't got a present too. She also kept throwing out dark hints about what made Harry such an unsatisfactory person.**

 **"You mustn't blame yourself for the way the boy's turned out, Vernon," she said over lunch on the third day. "If there's something rotten on the inside, there's nothing anyone can do about it."**

 **Harry tried to concentrate on his food, but his hands shook and his face was starting to burn with anger. Remember the form, he told himself. Think about Hogsmeade. Don't say anything. Don't rise -**

 **Aunt Marge reached for her glass of wine.**

 **"It's one of the basic rules of breeding," she said. "You see it all the time with dogs. If there's something wrong with the bitch, there'll be something wrong with the pup -"**

 **At that moment, the wineglass Aunt Marge was holding exploded in her hand. Shards of glass flew in every direction and Aunt Marge sputtered and blinked, her great ruddy face dripping.**

 **"Marge!" squealed Aunt Petunia. "Marge, are you all right?"**

 **"Not to worry," grunted Aunt Marge, mopping her face with her napkin. "Must have squeezed it too hard. Did the same thing at Colonel Fubster's the other day. No need to fuss, Petunia, I have a very firm grip..."**

 **But Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were both looking at Harry suspiciously, so he decided he'd better skip dessert and escape from the table as soon as he could.** He didn't trust how angry he was at the moment and immediately thought of the incident in the Hospital Wing with Professor Dumbledore.

 **Outside in the hall, he leaned against the wall, breathing deeply. It had been a long time since he'd lost control and made something explode. He couldn't afford to let it happen again. The Hogsmeade form wasn't the only thing at stake - if he carried on like that, he'd be in trouble with the Ministry of Magic.**

 **Harry was still an underage wizard, and he was forbidden by wizard law to do magic outside school. His record wasn't exactly clean either. Only last summer he'd gotten an official warning that had stated quite clearly that if the Ministry got wind of any more magic in Privet Drive, Harry would face expulsion from Hogwarts.**

 _Calm yourself. Remember Hogsmeade. Remember she's only here for a week. You can do this. Forget what she said. Calm._

 **He heard the Dursleys leaving the table and hurried upstairs out of the way.**

* * *

Harry was able to make without any more bouts of accidental magic. He continued to meditate on his magical core in his room and control his emotions. Everything that made him mad, he turned it over in his mind until it no longer bothered him. With his magic secure behind his walls of will, he hoped there would be no further problems.

The whole family was seated after dinner on the third day of Marge's visit and she was going on about how wonderful Dudley was compared to Harry. It was nothing new so Harry had no trouble keeping his cool.

"So tell me, boy. Has my brother told you what happened to your parents? It's probably both of their faults that you turned out the way you did." Marge gave him a smug look.

He gave her a neutral expression, but his blood was beginning to boil. "I have been told that they died in a car crash."

"Too right. Deserved it too. Lazy layabouts with no responsibility."

"You don't know," Harry returned in a not-so-neutral tone. "You never met them."

"Boy! I think it's time you went to bed." Uncle Vernon's face was edging toward its infamous shade of purple.

"Think you should be proud of your parents for getting themselves killed, do you? Probably drunk too, no doubt."

"They weren't drunks," he snapped.

"Your father was unemployed and your sister was a tramp who got herself pregnant. Did they even have a house or did she simply have you on the street?"

Harry's eyes bulged. "How . . . how dare you."

"Oh don't be so surprised. It's not like you are anything special. Look at you. You're the legacy that your parents left behind. Trash."

"SHUT UP!" He heard his voice roar.

Aunt Marge's eyes were wide as saucers as she clutched at her throat. A rasping sound came out of her mouth, and Harry realized that he was choking her with his mind. Somewhere inside him he wanted to stop, but how could he after all the horrible things she had said about his parents?

Fortunately, he wasn't to be bothered with deciding whether to release her or not. Vernon's fist collided with his jaw. Sharp pain lanced through that side of his face and Harry dropped to one knee. He didn't stay there long before Vernon proceeded to landed four well aimed kicks at Harry's ribs. The young wizard felt the ribs give way and crack, sending a new wave of pain throughout his side. He suddenly found it hard to breathe and coughed blood on the floor.

"Vernon!" Aunt Petunia shrieked. "Not on my new rug!"

Harry's vision swam, but he could clearly see that Aunt Marge had collapsed in a heap against the wall. Uncle Vernon was dragging him into the kitchen, and Dudley was gaping like a fish.

"See what happens to freaks who talk to snakes!" Dudley called out just before Vernon threw Harry onto the tiled floor.

"You listen here, you little freak. I've had enough of you. You just tried to kill my sister. Out with you. Leave and never come back. This is no longer your home."

Harry had a vague sense of a shimmer of magic at the edges of his senses. It felt powerful, but he could barely see through the pain let alone think about strange magic in the house.

"Vernon, you know he can't leave."

"Oh yes, he can."

Harry crawled to the table and lifted himself up by a chair. Pain blossomed across his side again, and he spewed blood out of his mouth. He suddenly felt like he was drowning and could do nothing to save his own life. After a few more violent coughs, the feeling passed but Harry couldn't deny that he was probably as close to death now as he had been after fighting the basilisk.

"You—you've killed him," Petunia gasped.

"No, he's just faking."

"Look at all that blood. Vernon, you've gone too far this time. We have to get him to a hospital."

He shook his head with a frown. "We can't. Too many questions."

"We . . . we could say that he was beaten up by some ruffians."

Vernon's mustache twitched in thought. "Yes, alright. We can do that, Pet. But as soon as he's well enough, he's out of here. I'll not have him murdering us."

They walked back to the living room to check on Marge. Vernon make a growling noise and snatched his coat off the rack.

Something primal welled up inside Harry, unchecked and unrestrained. He knew it was beyond normal accidental magic. This would be something monstrous, and he could do nothing to stop it.

"Help," he rasped.

Magic exploded from Harry, knocking the Dursleys on their backs. Every window in the kitchen shattered and half of the porch collapsed in on itself. The wall just behind Harry blew outward. The ground rumbled from the might of his magic that was begging to be released. Only the walls of his will held it all just barely in check, and the door to those walls were rusting fast.

 _Have to stop,_ he thought. _Have to channel it._

He thought of his wand, and his eyes fell on the cupboard under the stairs. The cupboard door ripped out of its hinges and smacked against the wall, knocking down a picture of Dudley. Harry's trunk landed in front of him and opened itself, his wand landing neatly in his hand. As soon as it touched his fingers, it was like a cool breeze had blown through a stuffy house. It took another ten seconds before the house stopped shaking.

Harry trembled from the power within him. It was controlled for the moment but it begged for release. The fury at Marge's words was still there, but he couldn't let it win.

There were four loud cracking sounds in the yard like seven cars backfiring in rapid succession. The front door opened and promptly landed on the floor by his bent hinges. In strode three men in black wizard robes. Behind him, Harry heard the tapping of a cane and large extra step of someone with a limp.

He hefted himself to his knees as he was grabbed roughly by the man with a cane—no wait it was staff. The man's face was scarred and one of his eyes was gone, replaced by a false one. It had to be magical because it swiveled up and down to take in his state.

"Merlin! Boy, you look like you just faced a troll," the scarred man barked.

Harry gave him a weak smile. "I never got a scratch when I did that in my first year."

The man's lips twitched in what might have been a ghost of a smile. "Do you know your name? Do you know where you are?"

"Harry Potter. I'm at Number Four Privet Drive." He glanced at the Dursleys. "Those are my aunts, uncle and cousin."

"They do this to you, Potter?"

"Uncle Vernon did. I lost control of my magic, and he beat me for it. I'm sorry."

"We'll sort out your accidental use of magic." He grabbed Harry's shoulders. "This won't feel very good, but we've got to get you to St. Mungo's Hospital."

"Alistor, you can't think of apparating in his condition!" one of the other men, a dark-skinned man with a soothing deep voice said in exasperation.

"You'll kill him," the man beside him with a black ponytail said.

"Well then he won't be The-Boy-Who-Lived anymore will he?" Alistor snapped.

Harry felt an unfamiliar magic take hold of him and instantly hated it. He suddenly felt like he was being squeezed through a keyhole before being returned to his normal size. He vomited blood onto what appeared to be a previously pristine floor.

"Bloody hell, Moody!" a nurse shouted as she came around from a desk. "What were you thinking apparating with someone this wounded."

"You sound like Shacklebolt," Moody grumbled.

"Well at least he's got some . . ." The nurse's voice trailed off as she caught sight of Harry's scar. "Is this who I think it is?"

"Not for long if you don't heal him," Moody snapped.

The nurse's wand was out in an instant. Harry heard her muttering a few words and felt the healing magic flowing into him. Suddenly he could breathe fully again and began gasping for breath which was followed by more coughing. Pain from the ribs righting themselves gave way to an eerie lack of pain in his check, and he gave the nurse his best grin.

"T-thanks." He shot to his feet, feeling a sense of euphoria. Unfortunately, his blood flooded to his head just a second later, and his knees buckled.

 _Not again_ , he inwardly groaned.

Moody caught him before he hit the ground. "Smooth, Potter. Next time, why don't you try to stand up slowly before you faint."

The nurse, whose name was Pedoria Bern, led him down the hallway into the first available room. She had him lay down slowly and gave him a vial of potion.

"It's the Potion for Dreamless Sleep so you can get your rest without reliving whatever it was that landed you here." She sent a glare at Moody.

"He was already like that when I got there."

"I've heard that before." She cast another healing spell that made Harry's skin warm and his magic tingled from the contact.

"Ask Shacklebolt, Dunwood or Findlemoore. They all showed up."

"Merlin's Beard, it's a wonder you don't have more limbs missing." She gestured at Harry as he swallowed the strange-tasting potion. "You're lucking he didn't get splinched."

"Splinched?" Harry asked as he felt his body growing numb.

"That's what happens when you disapparate and leave a bit of yourself behind," Moody explained as he followed Pedoria out into the hallway.

"Fudge and Scrimgeor will be here soon for a full report no doubt," she said with a sigh. "I better have his medical papers filled out."

"Alistor!" The dark-skinned man's voice shouted from the hallway. "You can't just run off like that. You know the risks of apparating someone who's wounded."

Moody made a growling noise. "Saved his life though."

Harry couldn't hold on anymore and drifted into the world of dreamless sleep.


	4. Chapter 4: Harry's Magical Guardian

_Thanks for the reviews! Thanks for the suggestions and praise. They both are incredibly important and help keep me going._

 **All rights for Harry Potter and characters go to J.K. Rowling.**

* * *

Harry sat up in his hospital bed, and finished his provided lunch. While not as good as Hogwarts food, it still tasted better than dry crusts and water that he had from the Dursleys. He had just set the plate on the stand beside him when Dumbledore walked in, flanked by none other than the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge.

"Harry, you are looking much better," the Headmaster said.

"Thanks."

"Harry, I'd like to introduce you to Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic."

He wasn't about to tell Fudge this, but he had seen him when he and Ron had hidden under Harry's invisibility cloak last year. Feigning a look of surprise, he stuttered a hello.

Fudge smiled. "No need to be so nervous, Harry. I'm not here to dole out some horrific punishment. Accidental magic isn't cause to throw someone in Azkaban."

The thought had occurred to Harry in the hours since he had awoken in St. Mungo's. He thought Dumbledore would visit sooner. Maybe some red tape had held him back since Harry wasn't at Privet Drive.

"Oh, well good," Harry replied.

"Now, we still need to know what happened from your point of view, Harry." Dumbledore was eying him very closely.

Harry told them everything, including his desire to get control of his power so this wouldn't happen again. When he had finished, Harry fumbled with the edges of his bed sheets. He hoped they wouldn't notice his nervousness.

"Merlin's Beard. Wandless magic of that scale at his age," Fudge gasped after a long moment. "And accidental at that."

"Harry, do you truly believe that it was all accidental? At any time did you feel as if you could have stopped if you truly wanted to?"

Harry gulped silently. "I'm not sure, sir. I wanted to hurt them but not like that. I just wanted her to stop insulting my mom. Then I wanted my uncle to stop beating me like he usually does."

"Usually?" Fudge sputtered. "Do you mean to tell me that this has happened before."

Suddenly afraid to share, Harry said nothing.

"How many times?"

Harry stayed silent. He would always be a freak to someone. Even now, away from Uncle Vernon's clutches, he would have to bare the shame of being too weak to fight back.

"Harry, please tell me." Fudge leaned forward, his bowler hat in his hand. "I won't think any less of you, but I need to know what I'm dealing with."

Fighting to keep his mouth shut, he finally said, "Years."

Fudge rounded on Dumbledore. "You told me that he was well taken care of. You assured me that he was receiving all of the love and support he could ever want? By magic, Dumbledore, how could you miss this?"

Dumbledore opened his mouth to reply.

"Sir, you didn't know, did you?" Harry asked. "Please tell me that you didn't just leave me there, because you wanted me to be mistreated."

"Of course not, Harry," Dumbledore said with wide eyes. "Why would you ever think such a thing?"

"My faith in you has been shaken, sir. I also agree with the Minister. You have a lot of ways of keeping track of me. Why did you leave me there? Why didn't you check up on me or have someone else check on me?"

"I had someone checking on you, but apparently I will need to have a little chat with here about what abuse looks like."

"Who was watching him?" Fudge demanded. "They should have their magic stripped away for this."

"That won't be hard to do, Cornelius. She is a Squib."

Fudge, not mollified in the slightest, glared at Dumbledore.

"I won't go back there, sir."

Dumbledore sighed. "Normally, I would fight you tooth and nail on this, Harry. However, in this case, the protection that your mother's love gave you at Privet Drive has been destroyed."

"Why?"

"Your uncle told you that you were no longer family to them. While the protection isn't tied to him, your aunt agreed with him. Magic is about intent, Harry. It was your mother's love that saved you. That magic could be continued with her bloodline. Your aunt, as her sister, could continue the tie of a blood ward around the house to continue to protect you from followers of Lord Voldemort."

The Minister visibly shuddered at the name.

"Who helped make these blood wards, sir?" Harry asked. "I know the wards at Hogwarts have to be cast by someone."

"I cast the blood wards myself, Harry," Dumbledore answered. "There are very few alive today who even know how to cast blood wards."

"I'm surprised to see you using blood wards," Fudge said. "Most would think that they are dark magic."

Dumbledore gave a small incline of his head. "In most cases that I have read, that is true. Dark rituals are usually what is associated with blood wards. However, it was Lily Potter's love that protected young Harry here on the night that Voldemort was defeated. That same love would have protected Harry if his family hadn't broken the magical tie."

"Even if it hadn't, you couldn't have thought about sending the boy back after yesterday's events. Even with the entire street being obliviated, Harry will still remember. And what of these other beatings he has suffered?"

"I have failed in many ways, but the blood wards would have held true. There were ways that I could have made things easier for Harry, but it is of no concern now that the wards are broken."

"So where should he go?"

"Don't I get a say?" Harry spoke up.

"Harry, there are things that you do not know and these things are better left to those who only want what's best for you," Dumbledore gently urged.

"That's worked out so well for me this far," Harry quipped.

"Harry, I know that you may well never forgive me for the past but—"

"That's not the problem, Professor," Harry interrupted. "I do forgive you. That doesn't mean I trust you."

"Harry my boy, you are still underage and cannot make any decisions without the approval of your magical guardian," Fudge said.

His heart sinking, Harry's eyes sought Dumbledore's. "It's you, isn't it?"

"It is my honor to be your magical guardian, yes."

Harry turned back to Fudge. "In the Muggle world, when a guardian fails in their duty to protect the child under their care, an investigation can be made to see if they should remain under their care. Is there something like that in the Wizarding World?"

Fudge glanced at Dumbledore, looking extremely uncomfortable. "Well, yes there is, but I'm sure you wouldn't wish to do such a rash thing. I mean, he may have his flaws, but he is still Albus Dumbledore."

The young wizard paused, weighing his options. Finally he said, "I wish to file a complaint against my guardian. How do I go about it."

"Harry, be reasonable." Dumbledore chided. "There's no reason to be so dramatic."

"I'm not being dramatic." Harry sighed but never took his eyes off Fudge.

Silence stretched by as Harry waited for the Minister to make a decision.

"I'll put you in touch with someone from the DMLE who handles these things," Fudge said finally.

"DMLE?" Harry scrunched up his eyebrows.

"Department of Magical Law Enforcement," Dumbledore explained.

"Fine," Harry said. "What do I do until then?"

"Remain here, Harry. I suspect they will be by this afternoon to get your statement and examine you."

Dumbledore took a step toward him. "Cornelius, surely you see that this is completely unnecessary."

"If I had not heard what state he arrived in, I might agree with you. Perhaps even then. But for constant abuse over years to have escaped your notice, I cannot allow that to slide. You have truly failed here, Dumbledore, and if word gets out that I swept this under the rug, it would ruin me. Finally, Harry here deserves the same rights as any other wizard. What would have happened if he had been killed by those Muggles? The old families would have been in an uproar faster than you could blink. He's the Boy-Who-Lived and comes from an ancient and noble house. You let this happen willingly or out of ignorance."

After a few tense moments, Dumbledore's shoulders sagged in defeat. "While I think this newfound fire in your belly suits you, Cornelius, I wish that we weren't at odd about Harry's guardianship."

Fudge drew himself up at the compliment. "Thank you. I'm afraid in this case, I have no choice. I dread to think what would have happened if Harry's accidental magic hadn't alerted us to have Aurors investigate."

"Are the Aurors the wizards who came to the house?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Think of them like a Muggle policeman, but with magic of course."

"Oh, well that makes sense. I'm sure there are crimes that need to be investigated in the Wizarding World too." Harry frowned and wondered why he had never thought of that before.

"Well, I'll let you get some more rest, Harry. It was a pleasure to meet you."

"The same to you, Minister," Harry returned.

Fudge turned to leave, but paused with a look back at the Headmaster. "Don't interfere with the investigation, Dumbledore. You'll only make things worse."

"Have a pleasant day, Cornelius," Dumbledore replied.

Once the Minister was gone, Harry said, "I won't change my mind, sir. Even if it was just a simple mistake or a bunch of mistakes, I need to be better taken care of. Didn't my parents have anything in writing about who I should go to? I think my mum would know if her sister hated everything magical."

"You have a godfather who is imprisoned in Azkaban and a godmother who is here in St. Mungo's after being tortured into insanity by a witch named Bellatrix Lestrange."

Harry's heart sank. "Did they say they wanted you to take me as a magical guardian?"

After a moment, Dumbledore said, "No. I decided that I was the best candidate for the job of magical guardianship."

"Well, it's not like anyone will disagree with you, sir. I'm just the Boy-Who-Lived. You're _the_ Albus Dumbledore. You've even got your own chocolate frog card."

The old man finally smiled faintly. "That achievement is worth more to me than any others."

Harry blinked in confusion. "Seriously?"

Dumbledore ignored the question. "Harry, I do not want you to lie when you are asked questions. I still believe that they will return you to my care. In the meantime, I will find a suitable wizarding family to place you with. You are old enough that being pampered won't be an issue, but we still need to be careful about the family."

"What about the Weasleys? I know that they don't have much gold, but I could pay for my expenses out of my vault."

Dumbledore shook his head. "They have limited space and would have their hands full with their own children as it is. Still, I will consider it. They are one of the few pureblood families known to align with the Light."

Harry lay his head back on the pillow. "I don't care about blood. Ron's my best mate. If there's nothing else, sir, I'd like to get some more sleep."

"Of course, Harry. I'll stop by to see you tomorrow. Sleep well." He strode from the room without looking back.

With a little effort, Harry turned back to the plate. He had forgotten to rest of his bread and butter. Feeling a surge of laziness and wondering if he could do it, he reached out his hand and willed the bread to fly into his hand. To his shock, it leaped off the plate, soared past his outstretched hand.

Splat! The buttered piece of bread stuck to his face like a poster on a wall letting everyone know his Seeker skills were as bad as Malfoy's.

With a sigh, Harry peeled the bread off his face. Abandoning it and his laziness, he started cleaning off his face with a napkin.


	5. Chapter 5: A New Family

**All rights for Harry Potter and characters go to J.K. Rowling.**

* * *

A woman with warm eyes and an easy smile greeted Harry as she stepped into his hospital room. The door closed and Harry felt a touch of nervousness. Surely, she wouldn't call him a freak or laugh at his scars.

"Harry Potter," the woman said matter-of-factly. "You resided at Number 4 Privet Drive in Little Winging. Is that correct?"

Harry nodded, glad she wasn't star-struck by being in the same room as him. It would have made this whole ordeal even more uncomfortable.

"I'm Cecilia Bradshaw, your case worker for your general health and guardianship. I'll be examining you to make sure that you have been treated well. Before I begin, is there any way that someone might have mistreated you."

He hesitated. "Is there any chance that I will have to go back to my aunt and uncle?"

Cecilia tapped the file beside her. "These are your medical files as well as a sworn statement from four Aurors. The Muggles that beat you will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. You will only have to see them again at a trial if they plead not guilty. Most certainly, you would never live there again."

"Good." Harry clenched his fists and relaxed them again. "I've been punched, kicked, knocked over the head with multiple objects, stabbed once by my cousin, been kicked down the stairs, gone without food for as much as a week and I can't remember a single time that a kind word ever came out of my relatives' mouths about me. They just refer to me as 'Boy', 'You' or "Freak' when they need something."

Cecilia's lips pressed together in a way that reminded Harry very much of Professor McGonagall. He wondered if they were related but thought better of asking.

"Harry," she said softly. "I'm going to need you to take off your shirt and pants so that I can examine the damage."

Slowly, he disrobed and stood with his hands at his sides. He heard her gasp at seeing his scars but said nothing. His face burning with shame, he remained still until she had finished all of her visual examinations.

"This might tingle a bit, Harry, but don't worry. It won't hurt."

"Ok."

She waved her wand around his head, his chest and along each side of him. When she was done, she pointed her wand at a large bowl that she had brought with her. It had been empty before but now held a red swirl of magic.

"You can put your clothes back on, Harry," she informed him.

"I've never see one of those before."

Cecilia gave him a small smile. "I imagine living with those terrible Muggles that you haven't seen a lot of things in the Wizarding World. This is a medisieve. It allows me to see the results of the spells I cast on you so that I can know your exact medical condition."

"I wonder why Madam Pomfrey doesn't have one."

"They are quite expensive. I'm fortunate that I work here at St. Mungo's."

Harry stayed silent for nearly five minutes as the mediwitch stared into the red pool. He was just about to cough or ask her how much longer he had to be here when she straightened up. Turning to Harry, she enveloped him in a warm hug. It wasn't Hermione's patented bone-crushing hugs, but it still felt nice.

"I'm so sorry that you had to go through all that you have, Harry."

"It's no big deal," he said, feeling embarrassed.

"No," she said firmly. "It is. If you had killed them, I wouldn't have blamed you."

Harry's eyes bulged. "That's not . . . you can't just say that."

She sighed. "I know. I'm sorry." Picking up her things and levitating the medisieve out the door she said, "It was nice to meet you, Harry. I'll give your new guardian this information."

"New guardian?" Harry said, but she was gone.

To say that Harry was surprised that he was being released two hours later would be an understatement. He had thought that he would be stuck here for at least another few days. When the Healer had told him the news, Harry had to resist the urge to hug the man.

Pedoria came to collect him and he chatted with her about how he was feeling and he told her how much he was glad to be shy of this place. For a moment, he was afraid that he had offended her. She laughed it off, and he felt a wave of relief.

"Now Harry, I'm going to leave you here with Cecilia Bradshaw, your case worker. She was the one who approved the family you will be going to for guardianship. They came well recommended."

"From Dumbledore?"

The nurse shrugged. "Probably. If not, they are good people. I've talked to them today and they seemed to be great. They're really looking forward to meeting you."

Harry frowned, hoping that he wouldn't be fawned over in his new home. It might be worse than being treated like a slave.

The door was cracked open, and Harry didn't immediately want to open it. What if they didn't like him after a few days or just wanted him around for his fame. Surely if Dumbledore was involved, he would want to make up for past mistakes and not blunder his way through this time even if he wasn't the magical guardian again.

"The list goes on and on," he heard Cecilia say. "The scars are just the tip of the iceberg I'm afraid. He suffered massive internal bleeding at some point and several of his bones will need to be regrown. The bones in his right arm seem completely new so that might be something to talk to Poppy about. I'd wager it was a Quidditch accident."

"I want the full medical report," a woman's voice said with no room for compromise.

"Of course," Cecilia said. "You are more than qualified to see that he is getting back to full health. I'm certain that he'll need more than a few growth potions throughout the summer. He might not be recognizable when he heads back to Hogwarts."

"He'll have all the girls flinging themselves at him before the first weeks out," another voice, much younger, said with a teasing tone.

"I'm sure that he is much too young to be . . ." Her voice trailed off as Harry opened the door. The woman had wide, kind eyes and light brown hair that made her look very pretty. Next to her stood a pretty young woman in an Auror uniform with bright pink hair. On the other side stood of man with a small smile playing on his lips.

"Hello Harry," the older woman said. "My name is Andromeda Tonks. This is my husband, Ted, and our daughter, Nymphadora."

The pink-haired girl scowled at her mother. "Mother."

"She doesn't like the name we gave her," Ted explained.

"Just call me Tonks or Dora if you absolutely must," the girl said quickly.

"You're an Auror," Harry said. "That must be interesting."

"You got that right!" Tonks cleared her throat and added, "I mean, of course I enjoy it and am professional at all times."

"Dora, stop teasing the poor boy." Andromeda stepped forward. "Harry, I know that we are not your family, but we would like to take you into our home to care for you until you come of age. Would you like that?"

"That sounds brilliant," Harry replied.

She smiled and it lit up her whole face.

Cecilia patted Harry on the shoulder. "Normally, we would wait until morning to release you, but since Mrs. Tonks here is a Healer herself, anything that you might need, she will be able to help. Your school things have been collected from the Dursleys and have been sent on ahead of you."

"How will we get to your house?" Harry asked. "By broom?"

"I wish," Tonks muttered.

Andromeda gave her daughter a pointed look.

Ted turned to Harry. "Have you ever used floo powder before?"

With a grimace, Harry said, "Yea, to Diagon Alley from the Weasley's."

"Well this will be a piece of cake then," Ted said as they made their way toward one of the public fireplaces. "I'll go first so you'll know what to say."

Harry gave him a skeptical look but shrugged.

"Tonks Manor," Ted prounounced as he dropped the floo powder into the flames, causing them to become the telltale green. Without hesitation, he stepped into the flames and was gone in an instant. The flames returned to their normal color

The young wizard grabbed a handful of floor powder and tossed it into the flames. When they changed color, he shouted, "Tonks Manor!" and stepped forward into the emerald flames. He spun and collapsed on the floor in a heap, soot covering him.

"Up you get or you'll get trampled," Ted cautioned as he helped Harry to his feet.

Within 15 seconds, Tonks and her mother stepped through the flames. Harry felt better that Tonks stumbled two steps once she exited. At least he wasn't the only person who hadn't quite got the hang of floo travel.

Dora gave him a look that said not to say anything about her clumsy floo exit. She caught sight of his soot-covered clothes and nodded.

"Well then, let's get you settled, and we can sit down to a nice meal," Andromeda said. She levitated his trunk upstairs before setting it at the foot of a large bed that looked all-too-inviting despite the fact that he'd been in bed for most of the last two days.

"Harry."

He turned to face her.

"I want you to think of this place as your home. You are safe here, from without and within. We have wards and powerful protections provided by the Ministry to keep out anyone that would wish to harm you. And you have my solemn promise that I would never do anything to hurt you. I was good friends with your mother in my last year at school and I would never betray her trust by harming the son she gave her life to save."

Tears welled up in Harry's eyes. He tried to wipe them away but found himself enveloped in another sudden hug. This one didn't squeeze the life out of him or simply felt nice. It gave him a warm feeling in his chest that made him unable to stop sobbing.

Harry didn't know if this is what it felt like to be loved or to have a family that actually wanted you around, but he suddenly was overwhelmed by her kindness. It was one thing to be around Mrs. Weasley who seemed to sympathize with hism. It was quite another for someone to welcome you into their home like you were one of their own. All the pain of his years flooded him at once like a dam being burst.

Eventually, he stopped crying and sniffled. "Sorry about your shirt, Andromeda."

She wiped her eyes. "I think yours is just as wet." Pulling herself up, she held out her hand. "Come on, Harry. Let's get some dinner in you. I can smell some of Ted's good cooking from here."

Harry took her hand, and she helped him to his feet. He followed behind her toward the sound of Tonks' and Ted's laughter over something Harry figured was probably so silly it couldn't be contained.

 _I could get used to this_ , he thought.


	6. Chapter 6: The Unspeakables

_Thanks for the reviews! I'm glad to see such a positive reaction to Harry going to stay with the Tonkses. I thought about having him stay with the Graingers, but I couldn't find a reason that the Ministry would place the Boy-Who-Lived into the care of Muggles. It made more sense to place him with someone who had ties to a pureblood family even if she was married to a muggleborn._

 _Also, in case anyone has read this far, I feel compelled to remind you that this is my first fanfic, and I know that there were and are ways to get you all to this point without direct quotes from the books. In the future, I'll be more vigilant about that, but for now that is my starting point for this story._

 **All rights for Harry Potter and characters go to J.K. Rowling.**

* * *

"Where are we going again?" Harry asked.

"The Department of Mysteries," Andromeda answered as they strolled through the Ministry of Magic.

Harry glanced around before they stepped into the elevator. Was this Dumbledore's doing? No. Andromeda had never mentioned Dumbledore in the 2 days since he had been living with them. If there had been any indication that Dumbledore was going to be his magical guardian again, Harry hadn't picked up on it.

"Why?" he asked.

"That's not the important question, Harry. You must have so many more about why your magic has become uncontrollable."

He shrugged. "I just figured that it was a side effect of the fight with the basilisk."

Andromeda nodded. "Yes, well that's something else that I'm not too happy that Hogwarts has fallen to. To think a 12-year-old boy was the only one to go face down a basilisk."

The elevator came to a stop. "Welcome to the Department of Mysteries," a voice chimed.

They walked through several areas, the only sound was their footsteps. At last they opened a large green round door and were greeted by two men in black robes with their hoods raised.

"Welcome, Mr. Potter and Mrs. Tonks," the one on the left said.

"You're late by 2 minutes," the other said.

"I assure you, Marcus, that we are exactly on time. If we hadn't been, the clock would have rang."

Marcus chuckled. "Yes well, I had to prove I hadn't lost my sense of humor."

"And such a brilliant sense of humor it is," Andromeda returned.

"If you are done flirting," the man on the left said snidely.

"Don't be rude." Andromeda gestured to the men. "Harry Potter, I'd like you to meet Marcus Arlo and William Shole, Head Unspeakables."

"Unspeakable?"

William nodded. "We are those that follow after knowledge that few dare to tread. We are those that bridge the gap between madness, genius and imagination. We only speak of these to those that cannot speak of them either or those we deem worthy. This is what it means to be an Unspeakable."

"Are you going to Obliviate me after we talk?"

Marcus laughed heartily. "That would be the thing to do, wouldn't it? However, we have decided that these matters—your matters—are things that you need to remember."

"And you'll keep my secrets because you're an Unspeakable."

"Exactly," the men said in unison.

"Let's go," William said with a gesture into an adjacent room. Inside was a small cushioned bed that seemed to be about Harry's size.

"Up you get," Andromeda instructed.

Harry hopped up onto the bed and lay down hesitantly.

"It's alright, Harry." Andromeda brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes.

William placed a set of three stones with engraved runes. "This might sting a bit. We won't know until we get a connection."

"How long will that take?" Harry tried to look down at the stones but couldn't get a clear view of them as they started to slowly spin.

Marcus kept his eyes focused on the runes, his wand making several swishing movements.

William pointed his own wand and made two vertical movements with his wand, mumbling something under his breath.

The runes glowed red and hot pain raked through Harry's chest as the runes connected to his magical core. He wanted to beg them to stop but couldn't find the strength to form words. His magic gathered around him but did not reach out to repel the pain as it had when he had been attacked by Uncle Vernon. When Harry thought it would never end, it slowly ebbed away until he felt normal again. The haze over his vision passed, and he felt the urge to vomit. A white spell touched his stomach, and the feeling passed.

"Harry, can you sit up for me?" Andromeda gently helped him do just that. Her voice was laced with worry.

"I'll be buggered," William whispered as he stared at the runestones in his hand.

"Small wonder why Dumbledore wanted to keep this boy under lock and key."

"Literally if the story is true."

"Only during the summer," Harry replied. "What did you find out?"

"Well Harry," Marcus said. The Ministry has a numbered scale of what they consider to be weak or powerful in the form of raw magical potential. I think it's all rubbage and not really accurate so that's why we used the runes to get an accurate reading of your magical core. I have to say I'm a bit . . . shocked."

"Shocked? Why? Is something wrong?" Harry's mind began to whirl through all of the possible ways that would probably be wrong that ended with him dying.

"Quite the opposite from the looks on their faces," Andromeda assured Harry.

William conjured a chair beside Harry's bed and sat in it. "Yes. Harry, though this test was never performed on Albus Dumbledore, from the readings of the runes, I would say that you could be at least as powerful as him. There is a chance that you could outstrip him someday."

"M-more powerful than Dumbledore?" Harry couldn't wrap his head around the idea. Then a thought occurred to him. "What about Voldemort?"

William glanced at Marcus. "We don't know the extent he has gone to gain power through his personal research. You three might be all in the same class as it were."

"You're not afraid to speak his name?" Harry noticed that Andromeda hadn't reacted to it either and was glad for it.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle will always be his name. Don't let a self-proclaimed lord make you or anyone else feel as if you should fear the very mention of his name. Doing so gives him power and fear is a power that few can fight. Merlin didn't discover Patronuses for nothing, you know."

"Patronuses?" Harry frowned in confusion.

"Erm, never mind. It's advanced magic. The point is, don't let fear of a name keep you from acting on defeating him."

"So you know that he's out there," Harry said.

"Of course. Dumbledore may think he's the only one fighting to save our world, but he's sadly mistaken. I'm sure at some point he'll be a frontrunner of the fight if Voldemort ever regains a physical body, but we can do just as much good finding new ways to fight the Dark."

"Don't let yourself get all egotistical about your newfound power either, Harry. As you may have seen recently, it is dangerous if not controlled. Wizards less powerful than you have been put to death for less. Luckily, few in the Ministry know that you are a wandless wizard and that will come in handy."

"Why can't all wizards just use magic like me? Do they all have blocks on their magical cores too?"

Marcus gave a half-shake of his head. "Sadly no, otherwise we could abandon wands altogether. On wizards and witches in Europe and most of the United States rely on wands. Doing so for so long has made us sort of handicapped with them. Our magic is still just as strong as wizards of days past, but we require the wand to channel the magic. You have no idea how rare it is to find someone who could have the potential to be able to cast any spell wandlessly."

"What about Dumbledore?" Andromeda asked.

William shrugged. "The biggest fight he was ever in was against Grindlewald and though he did use wandless magic to move large objects as big as a car aside, he performed his spells with his wand. Grindlewald did the same although he was obviously not winner of that duel."

"So who can teach me to control this power if no one else has it?" Harry began to worry that they were leading into the dangerous territory of stumbling through this blindly. While it had worked in the past with Sorceror's Stone and the Chamber of Secrets, it all fell down to luck. He didn't think his good luck would hold out much longer with rare magic at play.

"We could help train you here but that would only be for a few days," William answered. "I said it was rare for a witch or wizard. I never said it was rare for a goblin."

"Goblin? Like from Gringotts?"

"Of course!" Andromeda grinned. "They aren't allowed to own wands so their magic would have to be wandless. That's brilliant."

"Do they know all of the spells that are taught at Hogwarts?" Harry asked.

"There's the rub," Marcus said with his palm waving once in front of him. "They know more and less. Some of their own innate magic will counter spells cast by wizards so they never bothered to learn those. However, they still have tomes of the way to cast them and scribes who are required to stay learned in the ways of the wizard in case Ragnok, the goblin king, should ever require knowledge on any subject."

Andromeda cocked one eyebrow. "I'm surprised the Ministry would allow them to even know about those spells."

Marcus gave her a lopsided grin. "Only Unspeakables know this, and we aren't telling."

"Also, if either of you tell, no one will believe you, lordship or not," William added. "Besides, you don't want to start a panic do you, Harry?"

The boy wizard shook his head. "No sir. What's this about a lordship."

"Well, when you come of age, you'll be Lord Potter of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter," Andromed explained. "It's not in the same group as the rest of the haughty pureblood families, but it is still a well-respected family."

"Brilliant," Harry said. "It'll be nice having something good to look forward to when I get older."

"Well, I'm sure that there will be a good bit of gold there too," Andromeda said. "The Potters were always well-dressed. Lily didn't really come from money so she never bought expensive enchanted jewelry that are still all the rage among women with money. Don't worry. I'm sure they left you plenty."

"Getting back to the task at hand," Marcus cut in. "We did another test of your scar. The runestones can also pick up on any dark magic. There is a faint bit left over, just enough for us to trace it back to the Killing Curse and your mother's love magic connecting. Has Dumbledore told you what this did to Voldemort when his body was destroyed?"

"Yea," Harry said. "He told me that Voldemort put a bit of himself inside me."

Andromeda gasped softly, placing one hand over her chest.

"This was caused by a split of the soul, Harry. Normally, this cannot happen unless you were already prepared to do so. Splitting your soul is only helpful if you placed that piece of your soul inside an object. These objects are called Horcruxes."

"Horcruxes," Harry echoed. "That's an odd name."

"Indeed," William replied. "They originally had a different name when the Egyptians first discovered them but were renamed a few centuries ago. Anyway, I believe that Voldemort accidentally made you, a living person, a Horcrux."

"It's generally not wise to make a living person a Horcrux," Marcus butted in. "A person has free will and hopefully a conscience. This could prove very problematic if you wanted to store a part of your soul in something."

"So . . . Voldemort can't ever be killed?" Harry asked hesitantly.

William shook his head once. "It seems that he made the diary which seems to be a more elaborate Horcrux than is normal, but a Horcrux nonetheless. The fact that he had made the proper rituals necessary to create another before he went to your house to murder you, tells me that he made more than just the diary. There is no way to know how many, but we are keeping an eye on any old artifact that he may have placed his soul in. Dark objects exchange hands all the time."

"So what do I do now?" Harry wondered aloud.

"You study under the goblins," William instructed. "Go there tomorrow at 9 a.m., and they will get you sorted. Train with them over the summer and hopefully, keep training in secret when you return to Hogwarts."

"Isn't Hogwarts a waste of time now that he can't use a wand any longer?" Andromeda queried.

Marcus snorted. "It's not that he can't use a wand. He still can. The spells will be just as powerful as if he used his magic wandlessly. But his opponents won't be expecting it, especially if he's just been disarmed. So the spells are still important. Maybe someday, he can abandon the wand altogether, but until then, I would advise Harry to learn all he can from the teachers at Hogwarts."

"That's a fair point," Andromeda said.

"I think not using my wand would scare people too," Harry said. "It was bad enough with people thinking I was the Heir of Slytherin this year. I could do without people staring at me or hexing me behind my back."

Andromeda opened the door behind them with a flick of her wand. "Alright Harry, I think we should be heading home now. We'll get a good meal in you and some rest before you have to meet up with the goblins tomorrow."

Harry hopped off the bed and followed Andromeda out the door.

"Yes, of course." William waved them away. "Off with you."

"Oh and Harry," Marcus called from the doorway, making Harry turn back. "In case it wasn't clear earlier, don't tell anyone what we discussed earlier. Even your closest friends would turn on you when they find out about your wandless magic out of mere jealousy. Keep this very close to your vest. Understand?"

Harry nodded. "Yes sir."

"And you never met us!" William shouted from inside the room.

"Met who?" Andromeda returned with a cheeky grin. In that moment, she reminded Harry of her daughter.

They made their way to the Ministry floos and were soon back at Tonks Manor. Harry managed to not fall flat on his face thanks to some instruction from Andromeda. He thanked her for taking him today and made his way upstairs to lay on his bed. The strange runestones and the conversation afterwards played through his mind over and over.

 _Why didn't Dumbledore tell me about Horcruxes?_ Harry thought. _He should have known that that is what it was. Everyone says that he's brilliant. Why didn't he see the connection with my scar and the diary?_

Harry, try and he might, couldn't find a good reason as to why Dumbledore would keep this from him. Information that was about him should have been shared with him.

 _Maybe Dumbledore is good at playing things close to the vest too,_ Harry thought. _He'd make a good Unspeakable._

Harry stared at his hands, wondering about the power lurking inside him. What would happen when he could completely control it? Would that make him like Dumbledore, kind, oblivious and secretive? Or worse, like Voldemort, who only cared about more power.

He gave a heavy sigh and picked up his copy of History of Magic. Skipping the assignment, he looked at the most recent goblin war. If he was going to spend some time with goblins over the summer, he wanted to make sure he didn't say anything offensive to start another war.

Once he had finished with the reading, Harry frowned. Goblins, clever as they come according to Hagrid, had been treated monstrously. They weren't given the same respect as Muggles and most wizards treated Muggles like they were stray dogs. It's no wonder there were so many goblin wars.

This led Harry to the all-important question: If goblins can do wandless magic, why aren't they the ones in power? Harry knew he had to find out the answer and hoped that he would discover the beginning of it tomorrow.


	7. Chapter 7: Big Truths

**All rights for Harry Potter and characters go to J.K. Rowling.**

* * *

Harry leaned back into the armchair in the den. He had been mostly studying last night and Andromeda hadn't spoken to him about anything that had happened at the Department of Mysteries. Had she told Dora and Ted about the Horcruxes?

This morning, Ted had invited him to come in and get lost in some light reading before heading to Diagon Alley. Harry had grabbed a book about dark artifacts and curses and sat down, flipping through the pages slowly. After a half hour, Ted told him to stay as long as wanted and headed out, presumably to go to work.

Twirling a Muggle pen in one hand above a spiral-bound notebook, Harry was glad to have been placed with people who understood that some Muggle inventions were superior such as the Wizarding World's odd attachment to quills and ink.

The young wizard glanced at the few notes he had jotted down about Horcruxes. There wasn't a lot of information on them beyond what the Unspeakables had told him. He let out a long sigh.

"Wotcher, Harry."

Harry turned to find Dora giving him a kind smile. "Hey, Dora."

She raised an eyebrow but said nothing about the shortened use of her dreaded first name. With a plop, she landed on the couch and laced her fingers behind her head.

"What's got you so down, Harry?"

He frowned. "I just don't understand why Dumbledore wouldn't tell me about the Horcrux. I was right there in his office and he could have told me that there was one in my head. Why did he keep something like that from me?"

Dora pursed her lips sideways. "He probably thought you weren't ready to hear it. Most people older than you will not want to tell you things because you're young."

"But I've already faced Voldemort twice!" He glanced at the doorway, but no one was there.

"I know, Harry, but look at it this way. You're still not even a teenager. What if a three year old told you about how he defeated a basilisk and a man possessed with a dead man's soul? You might believe him with enough evidence, but would you tell him everything that he would need to know for the next ten years and hope that he wouldn't freak out and do something rash?"

Harry felt his anger rise, both at the thought of people thinking he was like a three-year-old and at the fact that her argument made sense. While he could be angry at Dumbledore all he wanted, it wouldn't get him the answers he wanted.

"So what you're saying is . . . I need to trick people into seeing me as older. That way they won't think of me as a child."

"Knew you'd get there, Harrykins. Got any idea how you're gonna do that?"

"Not a clue. Maybe the goblins will give me some ideas."

"Sounds like a good start. They aren't just good with money. Their eyes see a lot into politics, titles and other stuff. Ask them as much as you can think of. You'll be paying for them time either way."

Harry chuckled. "I guess you're right."

Dora's face became serious and there was a haunted look in her eyes. "Just be careful. Sometimes the truth might be bigger than you want, and there's no taking things back, short of an Obliviation. Even then, there's no guarantee."

Harry didn't know what to say. What truth could be so big, he'd want to forget? Wouldn't that mean that he would be that much worse when he found on later?

"Ready to go?" Andromeda's voice called from the doorway.

He jumped to his feet. "Yea."

A quick floo stop later, they were strolling through Diagon Alley. As they passed Quality Quidditch Supplies, Harry gawked at the Firebolt, the newest and fastest broom in the world. He promised himself that he simply had to come back and get a closer look at it once they were done speaking with the goblins.

People stared as they always did as he followed Andromeda into Gringotts. He was glad that the goblins didn't gawk at him and hoped witches and wizards would follow their lead.

 _Like that's ever going to happen_ , he thought with a small snort.

"Something on your mind?" Andromeda asked.

"Just wishing for something that won't happen."

Andromeda gave him a tiny smile. "You never know."

They stopped at the only available teller.

"Griphook?" Harry said with a look of mild shock that was mirrored by the goblin.

"You remember me, Mr. Potter? I am honored."

"Why shouldn't I remember you, sir? You were the first goblin I ever met."

Griphook's eyes bulged and tried several times to find words to say. "It simply isn't usual from a wizard and certainly not one of your status."

Harry cocked his head slightly. "My status?"

"Your lordship when you come of age," Andromeda reminded him.

"Right," was all Harry could think to say.

"What can Gringotts do for you today, Mr. Potter?" Griphook asked.

"Um, well is there a place we can talk in private. It's something . . . unspeakable." He silently congratulated himself at the reference.

Griphook nodded and stepped down from the desk, waving them back through one of the desk openings. He led them into a large room with a small stone table where an ordinary quill was held by a golden centerpiece. The door closed and there was a hum that made Harry's new magical sense tingle with excitement.

"Silencing charm?" he asked.

Griphook nodded. "A few others as well to block any intruders and unwanted attentions. Now then, what did the Unspeakable think was so important that you must speak to a member of Gringotts."

"Well, one of the Unspeakables said for us to be here at 9, so here we are," Harry said. "I thought maybe there would be someone who knew about the appointment."

A large tome seemed to appear in Griphook's hands as he flipped through it. "Let's see. 8:15 . . . 8:30 . . . ah, here it . . ." He gulped and looked up.

"What's wrong?" Andromeda asked, a hint of worry in her tone.

"You could have informed me that your meeting was with Chief Scholar Gruknot."

"We didn't know who we should see," Andromeda assured him.

"Yea, I wasn't trying to make you look bad," Harry said. "Sorry."

Griphook seemed shocked again that Harry was actually apologizing for a slight on a goblin's feelings. Had no wizard ever apologized to him before? With a sinking feeling, Harry figured that he probably hadn't. Maybe there were more Malfoys in the world than he thought.

"Follow me. This room is much too small for Gruknot's tastes. If I know him, he'll prefer something with wood. He dislikes stone tables."

Harry and Andromeda shared a look as if they were being given a peak into something no other wizards were privy to: the mind of a goblin scholar. Even though Harry didn't have a whole lot of experience to go on, he knew that they were about to meet someone who few wizards ever heard of, let alone met.

Griphook led them into a room and left them there.

"Well, this is weird," Harry said after minute.

"Yea," Andromeda agreed. "I don't think I've ever seen a goblin so riled up."

"Since he's a scholar, should we ask him about the Horcruxes?"

"That's a great idea, Harry. Who knows? Maybe there's one hidden here in a vault."

"As long it isn't in mine," he said.

"Your vault is only a trust vault for your schooling and a few extras. Your family vault will be available to you when you come of age."

"A lordship, more gold and who knows what waiting for me. I don't think I mind."

Andromeda smiled. "You deserve it, Harry. Your parents loved you and left it to you."

Griphook returned after a few more minutes with another goblin who was dressed in dark blue robes. Unlike any goblin that he had ever met, this goblin was young and smiling. It was the most unnerving thing that Harry had seen since watching the basilisk come out of hiding in Slytherin's Chamber.

"Hello, Mr. Potter and Mrs. Tonks," the young goblin greeted. "It is a great pleasure to meet you both. My name is Gruknot, and I must say that I was intrigued to receive an owl from Marcus about you both. Do you know that it's been nearly 4 months since his last owl? I didn't realize it until I counted the days. So silly of me to forget, but that happens when you are researching."

Harry looked uncertainly at Andromeda. He had never met a stranger goblin. A moment later, he realized that the goblin reminded him of Colin Creevey. The thought made him smile.

"I'll leave you to him," Griphook said as he left.

"Did Marcus happen to mention why you should meet with Harry?" Andromeda asked.

The goblin scholar spread his hands in silent apology. "Sadly no. But, you're here now, and it's all for the better, right?"

Harry took a deep breath. "I wanted to talk about wandless magic."

If possible, Gruknot's smile widened. "You are a wandless wizard, aren't you? By the stones, that is rare! Tell me, to what extent have you used your wandless magic?"

"I can move things by just wishing them toward me, but I can't really control them once they take off. All of my other wandless stuff has been accidental magic."

Gruknot snorted. "Accidental. No such thing except to a wizard's mind. All wizards and witches can do wandless magic if they push themselves to it. That's what accidental magic really is. You want something to happen even if you're not sure what. Magic is about intent."

"Sir, I want to control my magic and Marcus said you could help me. Can you?"

"Most certainly. I would be honored to do it for you. I mean, you are the former and future vanquisher of Voldemort."

"Yea, he seems to have it in for me," Harrys said with a weak laugh. "I wish he'd pick on someone else."

"Well, I'm sure that you know that's not possible even without the witch's prophecy," Gruknot said.

Andromeda's eye bulged. "What bloody prophecy?!"

Gruknot clamped his mouth shut for a moment. "I forget how much I still need to keep things to myself."

"No way." Harry took a step toward the scholar. "What prophecy? What does it say?"

The goblin shifted from one foot the other. Twice. "Fine. In truth, there are two prophecies. One was made by a witch name Sybil Trelawney, and the other was made by a goblin named Larnast."

"What do they say?" Harry asked.

"I will only show you so that you are prepared. This is sensitive information, and we only have it because every prophecy globe has to be certified through Gringotts. The attached prophecies are a side effect of that. Most likely the Ministry doesn't even know that we can see every single prophecy."

"Yea, I can't imagine they would like that," Harry said. "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone."

"Good." He reached within the satchel at his side and pulled out two papers. Despite the fact that they were just taken out of a satchel, there wasn't a single wrinkle on either page.

On the first page was written: _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..._

Harry's mouth dropped open.

On the second page was written: _A lightning child, unloved by his own, orphaned by murder shall break the chains of goblins and wizards alike. His greatest foe is a dark riddle with seven faces that denies Death his due. The child shall set us free and the dark riddle shall be put to rest._

"That's . . . oh Harry I'm so sorry," Andromeda said as she clutched him tightly.

Harry felt numb. How could the fate of all that be on his shoulders? He had saved the Wizarding World from Voldemort three times now, twice on purpose. Why did it fall to him, to be the one to save them all again?

"He's coming for me," he said softly.

A tear slid down Andromeda's cheek, but she hastily wiped it away. "I know, Harry. I'm so sorry. You should never have to bear this burden. It could be wrong. Prophecies are mostly just self-fulfilling. My father told me that once."

Gruknot shrugged. "Perhaps. I'd like to think that a goblin's gift of prophecy is more accurate, but even we didn't know what all of it meant. We still don't."

"What do you know?" Harry asked.

"I know that you must be the one to defeat him, Mr. Potter. I know he will try to kill you at all costs. I know that he has gone to extreme measures and used very dark magic to stay alive and not give Death his due."

"Horcruxes," Harry mumbled.

Gruknot flinched. "What did you just say?"

"Horcruxes," he repeated louder. "The goblin prophecy said something about a foe with seven faces that wasn't giving Death his due. Horcruxes would explain that. Oh, but that means that he made seven of them."

"You knew that he had made that many?" Gruknot spluttered.

"We didn't know," Andromeda answered.

"Although I have destroyed two with the help of a basilisk," Harry added.

The goblin blinked twice. "You truly are a credit to your kind, Mr. Potter. These items are always destroyed by us at Gringotts should we ever come across them. Those that do are usually given great honor and occasionally even a feast. That you, a wizard in his second year, destroyed two at once without losing your life is truly remarkable."

"If not for Fawkes, I'd have died."

"Excuse me?" The goblin gave him a confused look.

"Erm, Dumbledore's phoenix. He cried on me and that saved me from the basilisk venom."

Gruknot's face lit up. "Amazing! Yes, that would do it. What a thrilling tale. While you are training with me, you will have to tell it in full."

"When do we start?" Harry asked.

"Easy, Harry. We've only just begun discussing it," Andromeda chided.

"Mrs. Tonks is correct. My schedule is very tight so you will have to wait a week before you can return to practice your wandless magic. From that point on, you will need to be here every day until you return to Hogwarts."

Harry felt his heart sink at the thought of having to wait an entire week before he could get started.

"Was there anything else?" Gruknot asked.

"No, I think I've had my fill of new stuff today. Thanks, Gruknot."

The goblin gave a nod. "Of course, Mr. Potter. Enjoy the rest of your day. I will see you at 9am a week from today. Goodbye and good day, Mrs. Tonks."

They both said, "Bye," in unison then chuckled.

As they were walking down the steps of the bank, Harry's mind was still trying to process this new deluge of information. There was not one, but two prophecies that promised that he'd have to fight Voldemort to the finish. Not only that, but now Harry was pretty sure that Voldemort still had 4 other Horcruxes. What were they? Would they all be diaries like the one Mr. Malfoy had?

He sighed, rubbing his temples. They passed Quality Quidditch Supplies, but he'd lost his eagerness to examine the new broom.

 _Maybe next time_ , he thought.

"Harry, don't try to digest this all at once," Andromeda cautioned. "It's a lot to take in and you need to take your time with it."

"Yea," he said absently. No wonder Dumbledore didn't throw all of this on me when I asked him at the end of first year or in his office after I almost died this year. Tonks was right. I may think I'm ready, but the truth will still be so big I probably am just like a three year old. There's just so much that I don't know and it's big stuff. I'm not even a teenager and someday I have to fight the most powerful dark wizard of all time?

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't notice the girl coming around the corner until he'd run into her.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!"

Harry found himself staring into a very familiar pair of pretty chocolate eyes that were wide with surprise. "Hermione?"


	8. Chapter 8: Flourish and Blotts

"Harry?" Hermione wrapped herself around him in a bone-crushing hug. "What are you doing here?"

"Um, shopping?" He grinned.

She slapped his arms playfully. "I can see that, you prat. I meant why are you here so early? And what happened with your relatives? Was that why you were in St. Mungo's? I was so worried when I read about it. Did you—"

"Merlin's Beard, girl, breathe!" Andromeda snapped.

Hermione blushed. "Sorry. I'm Hermione Granger, one of Harry's friends from school. Nice to meet you."

"A pleasure," Andromeda returned. "I'm Andromeda Tonks, Harry's new guardian. I understand that you were one of the students who were petrified this year."

Hermione looked down and nodded.

"Even still as stone, she solved the riddle of what the monster was though," Harry put in quickly. "Without Hermione, they probably would have closed Hogwarts."

"Oh stop it, Harry." She gave him a small smile which he gave right back.

Harry suddenly felt his cheeks growing very warm and wasn't sure why. He hadn't said or done anything embarrassing. Had he?

"I'm about to head to Flourish and Blotts, Harry. Do you want to come with me and tell me what really happened? I trust the Daily Prophet about as far as I could throw a mountain troll."

He laughed but looked to Andromeda. With a smile, she shooed them away.

"So . . ." Hermione urged as soon as they were inside the bookstore.

"So . . . oh! Right."

They walked through the rows of books as Harry recounted his tale of how he ended up in St. Mungo's and afterwards, with the Tonkses. He described Dora's vivaciousness, Andromeda's motherly kindness and Ted's love of books. Deciding to stop there, he hoped she wouldn't ask what he had been doing the last two days.

"Wow. That's enough excitement for a whole summer even for you, Harry."

"I'd usually be locked in my room for the summer except to do chores."

Her head whipped around so fast, her neck popped. "What did you just say?"

"You're smart, Hermione. You had to know my relatives weren't treating me right." Irritation was lying just beneath the surface, but he wasn't in any danger of losing his temper. He just wanted to know for sure if she hadn't seen the signs.

"I . . . I thought maybe there was something bad at home. But you were so kind and I read a couple books on the subject for you." She let out a short breath. "There should have been signs of abuse. Flinching at physical touch, eating food like you're starving and other things like that."

"I leave that kind of eating to Ron," Harry said, trying to lighten the mood. He was sorry that he had initiated this conversation.

Her eyes welled up with tears, but she refused to let them fall. "Harry, I . . . I really never knew for sure. I'm so sorry that I didn't ask you bluntly about it. It's just . . . you're going to think I'm pathetic or selfish. You were my first friend, and if you didn't want to share, I didn't want to ruin our friendship by accusing your relatives of beating you. I'm so sorry. Please, I'm so very sorry."

Harry wrapped her in a hug. "I forgive you. Don't worry, Hermione."

When they broke apart, he gave her an easy smile. "Come on. I know you didn't come in here to cry. Let's go look at some books."

"Since when are you interested in books, Harry?"

"When I first found out I was a wizard, I wanted to learn as much as I could. Well, I've been thinking that I need to get back to that."

"Oh, I'm so glad that you're finally going to take your studies seriously," she said with a grin. He could see the wheels in her head whirling a mile a minute, probably mapping out ways to schedule specific studying times throughout every day.

"Hey, I'm not going to do everything you're doing," he said. "I just meant that I am going to not be skiving off as much with Ron."

"Fine." A pouty look gave way to worry. "Ron won't like that. He'll accuse me of turning you into another know-it-all bookworm."

Harry was silent for several seconds. "Ron wasn't there when I nearly killed my aunt, Hermione. Sometime I think I should have died for what I wanted to do."

"Harry, you mustn't think that way."

"I know. It's just . . . I wanted to just shut her up at first. Then I just kept squeezing her throat with my magic and couldn't decide whether I wanted to stop. What does that say about me, Hermione? Am I just a step or two from becoming just like Voldemort?"

He thought she would hug him tightly, but instead she just reached out and took his hand, stroking it gently. Her eyes bored into him, and he felt his worry begin to erode.

"You aren't like him. You are kind, compassionate and caring. Don't ever think for a second that you deserve being beaten to death or that you are as evil as Voldemort. You are the best boy I know. Besides, you'll always have me right there to make sure that you don't turn dark."

Harry smiled. "Thanks, Mione. That's just what I needed to hear."

"Mione? I like it but why did you decide to start calling me that?" Her eyes shone with a happy light.

He shrugged. "I didn't realize I was going to say it until I did. It kinda sounds nice. Hermione is a bit long to say all the time."

She pulled a book entitled _Advanced Transfiguration of the West_ off a nearby shelf. "I suppose you're right. But only you get to call me that. I think Ron would make it sound weird."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I just think it would."

"Is it because I said it first?" he asked.

With a shrug, she flipped through the first few pages. "I guess. I think I've always preferred . . ." Her voice trailed off, and she blushed.

"Preferred what?" Harry wondered why she had blushed. He glanced down at the page she was looking at, but it was just a normal page.

"Nothing. It's nothing." She put the book back. "I'm going to browse for a while. Will you be ok?"

"Yeah, I've got to be looking at some books about the dark arts. How about we meet at the front cash desk in an hour?"

She gave a short nod. "Perfect."

As she walked away, Harry was suddenly aware that she was in Muggle clothes that fit her very nicely. She looked very pretty with her white top and jeans. Whoa! Where did that come from? Hermione can't be pretty. I mean, she's my best mate who just so happens to be a girl.

 _A very pretty girl_ , a voice in his head reminded him.

When did she get pretty? Was she always pretty and he just hadn't noticed? Maybe it's because she's wearing Muggle clothing instead of robes.

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. He made his way up the staircase, perusing the aisles that were labeled: The Dark Arts. There were books on common curses to more advanced ones, artifacts, history and some written in strange languages that Harry suspected weren't even spoken anymore. Finally, he grabbed four or five and made his way downstairs.

Hermione wasn't at the cash desk, but Harry wasn't surprised. There was still a few more minutes to burn before the hour was up, and he knew that she would use every last second looking through the bookstore. He decided to look through some of the books in Charms and Enchantments.

"Potter?"

Harry winced and turned to face Draco Malfoy. How was it possible that everything that came out of his mouth sounded like he was sneering?

"Get tired of hanging out with your Muggles? Or did the Mudblood bring you here?"

Feeling his anger rising, Harry clamped down on it. It was difficult but with the image of Aunt Marge's face contorting in terror, he was able to squelch the feeling.

He decided to thrown Malfoy off completely just to see what might happen. "Please don't call her by that, Draco."

Malfoy's eyes widened. Harry had never heard him use his first name either in passing or directed at him during one of their many confrontations.

"I'm just here looking for some book about defense against the dark arts," Harry said. "It seems like we didn't get very good teachers our first two years. Don't you agree?"

Inside, Harry was doing his best not to burst into a fit of laughter. He was trying to use as much of Hermione's methodical approach to talking. It seemed to be flustering the pureblood wizard to no end.

"I guess so. What are you playing at, Potter?"

"Please. Call me Harry."

"Have you been Confunded? I only ask so I have someone to thank for when you snap out of it and realize you're acting like an idiot. It's not like you've ever been polite to me. You snubbed my offer of friendship from the moment we met."

"I remember, and I'm not Confunded. You implied that the people who I just met and had been nothing but nice to me were somehow beneath you."

"They are. Blood traitors, Mudbloods and Muggles are all alike. Only purebloods should be taught magic."

"Why does it matter? If you take away magic from no one but purebloods, the Wizarding World would fall apart. There aren't enough of you to do everything. I know there are tons of different departments in the Ministry. Are they all filled with just purebloods?"

Malfoy appeared to have never thought of that.

"Beyond that, the reason that I didn't accept your friendship, besides the fact that you insulted my new friends, was that you somehow think that without doing anything on your own, that made you special. Blood is just what keep us alive, Draco. You can't ride on the coattails of your father forever."

"I don't do that!" Draco snapped. "And you have no right to say anything about it, Potter. Your blood isn't exactly clean, Potter. You're practically a half-blood because of your mother."

Harry felt his ire rising from the comment but smashed it down. Mostly. "Voldemort is a half-blood."

Draco visibly shuddered. "You lie."

Harry shook his head. "I met him, well, a part of him in the diary your dad smuggled into Hogwarts. It contained the memory of Voldemort when he was sixteen. He was the one that controlled the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets."

Draco paled. "A basilisk?"

"Parseltongue didn't help me when all it would listen to was Voldemort," Harry said. "His name was Tom Marvolo Riddle. He just rearranged the letters to make the phrase: I AM LORD VOLDEMORT."

The blonde wizard gaped like a fish. "You . . . you're lying."

"You know I'm not."

"Father wouldn't serve a half-blood. Besides, if the Dark Lord was a half-blood, why would he be fighting to kill or enslave anyone that isn't a pureblood?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe it was something to get him in power. Who knows? And I doubt he told any of the Death Eaters. They would never have followed him if he had."

"But he could speak Parseltongue," Draco pointed out.

"So can I, and I'm only a half blood. He could still have a pureblood mother that had ties to Salazar Slytherin."

Draco frowned. "Since when did you get so smart, Potter?"

Long since abandoning the desire to just yank Draco's chain, Harry wanted to do something about the animosity between him and Malfoy.

"Harry," he reminded him.

Draco ground his teeth and amended, "Since when did you get so smart, Harry?"

"I'm trying new things, I guess. Thinking's one of them."

Draco smirked. "I don't know about this or what you are trying to do. Still, I'll think about what you said even if it's all lies."

"I'm sure a Slytherin could figure out what's a lie and what's not."

"That's why you're a Gryffindor, Potter. Sometimes you can't tell." Malfoy began to walk away.

"The Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin," Harry blurted. "He told me I had cunning and ambition."

Draco froze. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah. I'd just met you though and I thought that all Slytherins would be like you. You'd just insulted Ron, my first friend. What would you have done if that had happened to you?"

Draco didn't answer. He stayed frozen for half a minute before he simply walked out of Flourish and Blotts.

Hermione stepped out from behind a nearby bookshelf. "Was that true, Harry? About the Sorting Hat, I mean."

"Yeah, it was. Everything I told him was the truth. You heard everything?"

"Most of it. I didn't think it was a private conversation, and I was surprised that you two weren't hexing each other."

He chuckled. "It surprised me too."

"You're very different now, Harry." She frowned. "You weren't just having Malfoy on were you?"

"I was at first," he admitted. "But I was actually interested in what he might say at the end."

She said nothing.

"Maybe nothing will happen because of this. I'm just tired of having enemies everywhere I go. If I can get Malfoy to at least leave me alone at school, maybe I can have a better time there."

Her slender hand closed on his arm. "That's very mature of you, Harry. You two have been enemies at school. I may like him either, but if you want to put forth the effort to turn him into something other than an enemy, I'll help you."

"He kind of hates Muggle-borns," he reminded her.

"Well, it's a good thing you didn't mention that you're living with Mr. Tonks then," she said with a chuckle. "Come on, let's buy our things and get back to Mrs. Tonks. I'm sure you don't want to spend your whole time at Diagon Alley with me."

"Why wouldn't I?"

She opened her mouth, but no words came out and she closed it again. Their eyes locked and something warm filled Harry's chest. He felt drawn to Hermione like a moth to a flame. What was this? He had no idea what was happening but wanted nothing more than to be closer to her as their faces inched toward each other.

"Harry! Hermione!"

The two jerked apart like they had touched a live wire, both of their cheeks turning scarlet. What had just happened—or almost happened? Harry felt a surge of irritation toward his other best mate, Ron Weasley, who was rushing toward them. He couldn't decide if it was because whatever was about to happen had been interrupted or because he had no idea what it was that _had_ been interrupted.

Ron reached them and grinned. "And here I thought I'd be bored to death when Loony dragged me in here."

"Loony?"

"Yeah, Luna 'Loony' Lovegood," Ron explained. "She lives not too far from the Burrow. We found her playing with the garden gnomes this morning, and Mom told us we had to bring her along. I got the job of making sure she doesn't wander off."

"Does she do that often?" Hermione asked.

"Not really. She's just a bit odd and believes in lots of stuff that probably doesn't exist. Her dad has his own newspaper, The Quibbler, and he writes about stuff like that in it."

"Like what?" Harry asked.

"Oh like Humming Boondingers and Crumpet Snorkings. Oh bloody hell! I can't remember the names." He threw up his hands.

"It's 'Hummering Plumdinger' and 'Crumple Horned Snorkaks,' Ronald," a dreamy voice said that belonged to a pretty girl with long blonde hair who stepped lightly over to them.

"Oh, yeah that's right." Ron gulped silently.

"I think the Wrackspurts are making your brain go fuzzy again," Luna said with a sweet smile. "You remembered them when I talked with you about them this morning."

Ron's ears turned red. "Erm, well yeah but that's because I just talked to you yesterday."

"It's alright, Ronald. You don't have to explain." Luna looked at the two standing in front of her. "Hello, Harry Potter. I have always wanted to meet you."

"Hi," Harry returned. "It's nice to meet you too, Luna. This is our friend, Hermione Granger."

"I have seen you in the library, Hermione Granger. You like books more than me."

"Um, thanks," Hermione said uncertainly. There was a long moment of awkward silence so she added, "I like your radish earrings."

Harry had just noticed them as well. He wasn't sure how he wanted to react and simply stood there, wondering what the strange girl would say next.

"They are Dirigible Plums actually," Luna corrected. "Many people confused them for radishes in pictures and from far away. Oh, but thank you very much. I'm glad you like them."

"Well, I know you wanted to talk to Ronald only. I have some things to look for if the Nargles haven't taken them away." She wandered off before anyone else could say anything.

"Mental, that one," Ron muttered.

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "You say that about me."

"Erm, well it's different," Ron spluttered. "I, uh, she's just really odd about her imaginary creatures and stuff so that's why I said it."

"Would you say that if she were still here?" Hermione pressed.

"Well, obviously not."

"I wonder what you say about me when I'm not around then." Hermione stomped over to the cash desk and plopped her books down. She paid for her books and stepped aside for Harry.

"Ron, one of these days, you really need to learn to think before you speak," Harry told him as he paid for his books.

"Probably. You'll beat me in Wizard's Chess before that happens." Ron gave him a cheeky grin, but for some reason, Harry didn't feel like returning it.

Hermione stepped up to Harry. "I'll see you later, Harry. Owl me if you want. It was nice bumping into you."

"You too, Mione."

She gave him a warm smile that made his heart skip a beat and left the bookstore.

"Ok. I _am_ going to say it. Mental."

Harry glared at him.

"Well, maybe not mental but still a girl."

"Yeah," Harry said absently as his mind drifting in dangerous thoughts that reminded him that Hermione was most certainly a girl, and he was terrified that he might be starting to fancy her. There had been that moment between them. He knew what it meant now though not entirely sure how he knew. Maybe it was hanging around her all the time that made him in tune with his emotions.

 _Or maybe since I can barely control my magic when I get upset_ , he thought.

"So why'd you call her 'Mione'. Did she ask you to? I'm not supposed to call her that now, am I?"

Harry stared up at the ceiling and closed his eyes. "Ron, how can you be both unobservant and notice things like that at the same time?"

"It's a gift. Seriously though."

"I just started calling her that. She said you don't have to call her that. It's just my things anyway. Not really sure why I called her that. Just started doing it today for some reason."

Ron shrugged. "You're weird, mate. Not Loony Lovegood weird, but you do have, uh, quirks."

"No, I don't."

"Whatever you say. Come on. Let's go to check out the Firebolt. You have seen it, right?" Ron was already walking ahead of him.

Harry nodded and followed him. "Sure thing."

"Someday when I'm playing for the Chudley Cannons, I'll be riding a Firebolt," his ginger friend said wistfully.

"I'll bet you will, Ron. No one knows Quidditch better than you. Maybe you should try out for the team this year. I can put in a good word with Wood for you."

Ron's bright smile lasted for only a second. "Nah, I don't think I'd be good enough to play for Gryffindor. Wood always wants the best, and I've only ever practiced at home with a Cleansweep."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed. "Why are you suddenly acting like Neville? You won't know until you try. You can practice on my Nimbus anytime I'm not using it."

He didn't tell Ron that he most likely wouldn't be using the Nimbus 2000 as much since he'd be studying more. That probably wouldn't go over very well. Ron wasn't exactly lazy, but he could be if Hermione didn't nag him about his schoolwork.

Ron rolled his eyes. "I'll go to try-outs, alright. Happy?"

"Over the moon," Harry drawled.

"You looking forward to a new season? We'll get the House Cup for sure and beat those slimy snakes."

Harry kept his face neutral. Somehow, with the fate of the Wizard World on his shoulders and some rare magic to master, Quidditch seemed so . . . useless. The thought shocked him because even though he loved flying more than anything, he knew that he needed to train even more. Why couldn't he have fun with Quidditch or goofing off like Ron? Why couldn't he just be a kid? He wondered if he had ever had a real childhood or if had always been forced to grow up since he was old enough to know the word 'freak.'

Sometimes—a lot of times lately—being Harry Potter sucked.


	9. Chapter 9: An Unexpected Reunion

**Thanks everyone for the reviews! It's so great to see how everyone is interested in the story as it progresses. Thanks to those that point out my mistakes too. I will continue to improve. Enjoy this chapter. It's longer than usual. I thought of trimming it down but couldn't find a good place to do it so I just left it as is.**

* * *

The rest of the week passed very quickly. Harry stayed at the Tonkses and ate more than he'd ever had when not at school. Once a day, Andromeda gave him a Potion of Nourishment and a Growth Tonic every other day to counter his years of malnourishment.

On the day before he was to return to Gringotts, Harry was reading in the library when Dora walked in and put her hands on her hips.

"That's no way to spend your summer holidays," she said. "Come on. Let's go out to get some fresh air."

Harry gave a shrug and followed her out of the house.

They walk along the streets of Muggle London, Dora pointing out things that they saw along the way. Harry had to admit that it was nice to be out in the open air and not have to worry about his relatives being angry that he wasn't doing chores. It almost felt wrong to not have any chores to do and be constantly berated while at home. Still, the feeling of being loved was becoming more familiar day by day.

"Did I lose you, Harry?"

"Huh? Oh, sorry."

"What were you thinking about?" she asked.

"Just how glad I am to be with you lot," he answered.

Dora beamed. "We're just as glad to have you. I know Mum's thrilled beyond belief to have someone to dote upon again. She kinda always wanted a son too but for some reason, they never could conceive again."

Harry's heart was thrilled that Andromeda thought of him like a son. "Why not?"

"Dunno. I never really asked because, well, they're my parents. If they say they couldn't, I just figured that they already tried all options."

The duo walked on in silence for several minutes before they came to a large park. Two swing sets occupied either side while a slide and merry-go-round were in the center. A line of benches were against the chain-link fence. There was only one occupant of the park, and she sat on the bench.

Hermione. Harry couldn't believe that in less than a week he had bumped into her again. Although this time, it wasn't literally.

"You know her?" Dora asked.

"That's my best friend, Hermione, from school."

"Let's say hello then."

"Wait." A mischievous glint was in Harry's eyes. "Andromeda explained that you were a Metamorphmagus."

Dora arched her eyebrow. "Go on."

"Can you change into Professor McGonagall?"

She grinned. "I'm with you. Let me step around the corner to transfigure my robes and get everything straight."

In less than a minute, out stepped the perfect copy of Professor McGonagall, pointy hat and all.

"Damn Tonks, that's brilliant."

"Mr. Potter, please mind your language."

Harry's eyes widened. "Even your voice is spot on."

"Did you expect otherwise?" Not-McGonagall said.

"I guess I'm just adjusting to it. Anyways, here's the plan." He whispered in her ear.

For a moment, her voice switched back to Dora's. "I don't know, Harry."

"Come one. It'll be fine."

With a purpose, Dora in her Not-McGonagall persona strode over to where Hermione sat reading.

"Ms. Grainger," Not-McGonagall greeted.

Hermione's eyes snapped up. "P-Professor McGonagall. What are you doing here?"

Not-McGonagall clasped her hands in front of her. "Why do you think I am here, Ms. Grainger?"

The young witch's face fell. "Because you know about the letter that I received from the Ministry. The request was denied."

Harry was confused. Why would she be getting letters directly from the Ministry? And what was denied? Luckily, Tonks showed no sign of confusion, and Harry suspected that she had plenty of experience impersonating people.

"No, that is not why I am here."

"Then why are you here, Professor?"

"It is with great sadness that I must inform you that there are stricter rules that have been put into place. Due to the amount of time that you missed last year, you will need to retake all of your exams so that there can be no doubt that you can move on to third year. Without doing so, you will be unable to return to Hogwarts."

Hermione's mouth dropped open. "B-but you said that everything was fine last week in your letter."

"The Governors just voted on it this morning. I felt you needed all of the time you can to prepare since the Examiner will be by your house in 2 days."

"Two days?! I can't study for every subject in two days. Oh, please, Professor. You have to let them give me more time. If I could have at least a month, I might be able to pass."

"I'm sorry, Ms. Granger. It is out of my hands." Not-McGonagall spread her arms out.

Hermione's eyes welled up with hot, angry tears. "This isn't fair! This is just because I'm Muggle-born, isn't it?"

Not-McGonagall shifted uncomfortably, and Harry decided that this prank had failed utterly.

He stepped out from the tall bush where he had been hiding and hesitantly strolled to Hermione.

"Harry?"

"I'm sorry, Hermione. It was just supposed to be prank. I should have known that you'd take it really badly."

Hermione launched herself at Harry and began hitting every inch of him that she could. Finally, she stopped and shoved him hard.

"Harry James Potter, you are the most insensitive bloody prat that ever lived! How dare you do this to me? I would expect this from Ron, but you, I thought you were better than this." She gave a snarling sound of disgust and fled from the park.

Harry stood there, feeling lower than he could ever remember. Had he just ruined the closest friendship he'd ever had? Why had he been so stupid? Now there was no chance in figuring out whatever it was they had had between them.

 _What have I done?_ he thought.

"Go after her, you dunce," Dora snapped. "I should never have let you talk me into this. Go!"

He sighed as he noticed that Hermione had left her book, Herbology: Grade Three, behind. Snatching it up, he bolted down the street as fast as his legs would carry him. He could see Hermione about to dash into a house.

"Hermione!"

She spun before she reached the first step. "Get away from me, Harry! I don't ever want to talk to you again."

"I'm sorry!" He stopped about five feet from her, unsure if she would hit him again or if she even wanted him to be any closer. "I never should have even thought that it would be right to do to anyone, especially you. It was the most stupid thing I've ever done. I'm really sorry I hurt you. Please forgive me."

"You have no idea what you just did to me, Harry." Hermione was shaking in fury as she wiped her tears away. "I avoid going to the park unless I know that I'll be alone. I used to get bullied every day when I went there because I just wanted to read. I knew when to leave before I could get bullied. But today, my perfect plans went out the window because the boy I thought was my best friend talked someone into drinking Polyjuice so that he could make me think that everything that I have loved would be taken from me. I'd never get to go back to Hogwarts, I'd probably be Obliviated so i couldn't do any magic and my parents would never know why I'd suddenly be two years behind all of my classmates."

Harry hung his head in shame. "I didn't think of any of that. I'm stupid for not thinking at all, really."

"Yeah, you were." She folded her arms in front of her.

"Is . . . is there anything I can do that will make this right?"

"I don't know, Harry. I honestly don't."

"Hermione sweetie, is everything alright?" A man with russet hair and piercing gray eyes stood in the doorway to the house. He was tall and held an expression that left Harry with no doubt that he knew everything was definitely not alright.

Hermione seemed on the verge of saying something in anger before she said in a neutral tone, "We're fine, Daddy. This is my best friend, Harry Potter."

Hermione's father glanced from Harry to Hermione. "Ok, pumpkin, if you say so. I'll be right inside if you need anything." He gave Harry a glare that said, 'If you hurt her, they won't find your body.'

"So I'm still your best friend then?" Harry said with a trace of hope.

"Maybe. I'm still deciding."

"Well, what if I were to help you with the letter you got from the Ministry. I know a couple people there. Maybe they can help you."

"No. You can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I asked for something really important, and they said no with no room to argue. Even if you are The-Boy-Who-Lived, they won't give it to me."

"Why not?" He was started to get irritated that she wouldn't tell him or even let him help.

"Why should I even tell you? Why do you even deserve to be my friend anymore?"

Harry gulped. "I don't. You deserve better friends than me."

Her eyes softened. "Oh, Harry."

He locked eyes with her, resolution in his gaze. "Name one thing you want me to do. I'll do it."

She bit her lower lip. "You think it's that easy?"

"I know it's not, but maybe it'll help you think about forgiving me."

"Fine." She thought for almost a minute. "I think I have something."

"I'll do it."

"I haven't even said it yet, Harry."

"It doesn't matter. I want to earn your friendship back so I'll do it."

"Tell me a secret that you've never told anyone. Not something small like when you stopped wetting the bed or what your first memory was. A big secret."

"What makes you think I haven't told you everything?"

"There has to be something. Also, this secret has to be something that you never tell anyone else. For this to work, it has to be something that no one, not even Ron, ever hears from you."

 _I fancy you_ , he thought. _No. Don't you dare tell her that. That'll scare her off and she already hates you. How about the thing with the Unspeakables or the goblins? No, I should probably tell Ron about that too._

"I'm waiting, Harry."

"It's hard to think of something I haven't told you that I can't tell other people."

She tapped her foot a couple times with an expectant look.

"Well, there is one thing. It is a memory but not my first one. I ran away from home once when I was living with the Dursleys. I was four."

A look of pity crossed her face.

"I wasn't sure where to go, so I just ran in whatever direction I thought best. Eventually I ended up at a little pizza shop. I was really hungry but obviously I had no money. I just stood out in the rain until a lady came to pick up a box of pizza. She saw me standing there and asked me what my name was. This was before the Dursleys sent me to school so my name was still 'Boy'. She looked really sad when I said that and gave me a slice of pizza. I didn't know what else to do so I ran away. Eventually, some police found me and returned me to the Dursleys. I got locked in the cupboard for a week for that. That's the only time I ever ran away."

For the second time, Hermione launched herself at Harry, but this time she just hugged him tightly. "I'm so sorry, Harry. I know I shouldn't have overreacted. It's not your fault that you didn't know about the bullying."

"No, don't do that, Hermione." Harry pulled back. "Don't forgive me just because you feel sorry for me. Your friendship is too important to me. I need to make sure you forgive me and not out of guilt. I can tell you a different secret if you want."

She shook her head. "I already forgave you before I asked for the secret. I'm still mad, but I forgive you."

"Oh . . . good."

"You can still tell me another secret though," she teased.

"Let's see." He pretended to think. "I hate the way Ron eats."

"Just because no one is going to tell Ron that he eats like a pig except me, doesn't make that a secret. Everyone hates seeing him eat."

"I like your hair," he blurted. "I mean your eyes. I mean . . . nevermind. Sorry."

"Really?" Hermione asked with a look of disbelief. "Do you mean it?"

"Yeah."

"My hair is a mess all the time," she pointed out.

He pointed at his own hair that refused to lay flat.

"My eyes are nothing special."

"Maybe your mirror is bad."

"Oh, so smooth, Mr. Casanova."

"Who?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Why do you like my eyes?"

"Well, they're always so, you know, full of emotions. I can always tell what you're thinking and sometimes what you're feeling if I look close enough."

Her lips curved into a coy smile. "Thank you, Harry. That means a lot."

"Hermione," her father called from the porch. "Lunch is ready. Care to invite your young friend in for a bite so we can get to know him?"

"Sounds like that's Mum's idea." Hermione snickered.

"Maybe. You'll never prove it." He winked at her and went back inside.

"How bout it, Harry?"

"I don't know. Dora will probably be wondering where I am."

"Dora?"

"That would be me and no, I won't," Dora said as she seemed to materialize out of thin air, making Harry and Hermione jump.

"Do you have an invisibility cloak too?" Harry asked.

"She looks like she was disillusioned," Hermione said.

"Well, aren't you a brilliant witch." Dora grinned. "Don't worry about lunch, Harry. We've got a telephone at the Manor. Just call when you're ready to come home, and I'll apparate over."

With a loud crack, she was gone.

"Wow, apparition would be so handy to get everywhere," Hermione said.

"It makes me want to vomit although that might have been because I was bleeding so much."

"Bleeding?" Her eyes flared as if he hadn't told her that he had gotten hurt again.

"When Moody side-along apparated me into St. Mungo's, I threw up," he said quickly.

"Oh." She reached out and took his hand. "Let's go get some lunch."

She led him into the house and dropped his hand to take the book that she had left. A quick stop into another room, and she was back at his side.

He rubbed his fingers together and felt the absence of her hand. Why did she have this much of an effect on him?

As he sat down next to Hermione, her father sat across from them, giving Harry a withering gaze.

"Daddy, behave. Harry and I just had a disagreement because he said something insensitive. He's normally really nice and respectful."

"He'd better be."

"Alright, let me see this mysterious boy that Hermione is always writing about."

"Mum!" Hermione looked mortified.

Hermione's mother stepped into the dining room and time seemed to stand still. Harry's glass shattered and he tried in vain to swallow the lump in his throat.

"Harry?" Hermione asked in a worried tone.

 _It's impossible_ , he thought. _I just talked about her. It's like I summoned her out of my memories. Can magic do that?_

"That's her," he said in a soft voice. "She's the woman who gave me the slice of pizza."

Hermione's mouth tipped open as she threw a furtive glance at her mother who also seemed to be petrified.

"I remember you," Harry said as he stood.

"So do I," Mrs. Granger returned in a soft voice.

"Am I missing something here?" Hermione's dad held a look of bewilderment.

"Dan, do you remember when Hermione was about four or five and I went out for pizza and came back with one less slice? He was the boy I gave it to."

"You're kidding."

"No," Mrs. Granger said. "It's definitely him. You still don't look like you eat enough. I had no idea that you were the one Hermione had been writing home about."

"Really? About me?" He inwardly winced at the hope that was in his voice. One glance at Hermione, and he could see that she was blushing madly.

"I write about Ron too," Hermione mumbled.

"Yes, and he seems more the type to get into a row like I just saw," Mr. Granger remarked.

"We've never really fought before," Harry explained. "I was a complete prat to her today, and I deserved more than her yelling at me . . . and hitting me. Nice punches by the way."

"Thanks." Hermione smirked.

"So, Harry, what happened that night?" Mrs. Granger asked.

"Oh, well I got picked up by the police and returned to my relatives."

"Were they worried about you?"

Harry snorted. "No. I think they were disappointed that I was brought back."

Hermione's mother frowned. "You weren't punished, were you?"

Harry stared down at his plate.

"Do you still live with them?" Mr. Granger pressed.

"No he doesn't," Hermione answered for him. "Harry had some accidental magic and they beat him. He spent some time in St. Mungo's, the wizarding hospital, and then was placed with a new guardian."

Harry reached under the table and squeezed her hand in silent thanks.

"Well I'm glad that you're somewhere safe now," Mrs. Granger said.

"Me too, Mrs. Grainger."

"Emma. Please call me Emma."

"I suppose after hearing you've had a rough time of it, and Hermione gave you back what you had coming to you for a prank, you can call me Dan," Hermione's father said with a small smile.

"Thanks," Harry replied, flushing at the guilt that welled up his chest.

"Well then, let's sit down and have a nice lunch. I've made some sandwiches and salads." Emma placed a thick sandwich on each of their plates.

Harry noticed Hermione's had no crusts. "I didn't know you didn't like crusts."

"I never eat the sandwiches at Hogwarts. They aren't the same as here at home."

They ate in silence for a few minutes.

"So Hermione tells me she ran into you in Diagon Alley the other day," Dan said. "It's nice to see someone who is interested in their studies as much as my girl."

"Well, I'm not usually, but I thought I'd be better at it this year so I'm getting an early start." He felt bad for lying to someone he had just met.

"It's never too late to turn over a new leaf," Dan put in. "I only ever heard Hermione mention that Ron fellow as being lazy and mean to her."

"Yeah, Ron sometimes doesn't think before he opens his mouth. He and Hermione argue all the time."

"But you two seem to get on well with each other," Emma said, a strange emotion in her eyes. "Why is that?"

"Well, we both were raised with Muggles and didn't know much about the Wizarding World going into it. Hermione knew more because she read about it. I wanted to, but after I met Ron I kinda gave up on it. There's so much that I should have learned."

"Is that why you wanted to get a head start on your schooling?" Dan asked.

"Partly." Harry sighed.

"You could come over tomorrow and work on your homework with me," Hermione tentatively suggested.

Emma nodded encouragingly.

"You mean you aren't already done?" Harry teased.

She lightly punched his arm. "Only with a couple. I'll bet you haven't even started."

"I'm not sure if I'll have time. Andromeda was going to take me to Gringotts tomorrow. I didn't get a chance to finish up some business with the goblins."

"Better you than me," Dan said quickly. "They give me the willies."

Hermione gave Harry a critical eye but said nothing.

"There's plenty of time during the hols. I'm sure you can find some time to do your homework together," Emma said.

"I hope so." Harry was happy to see a smile on Hermione's face.

The rest of lunch was filled with Harry asking about stories of dentistry. Some of them made him nearly spit out his drink. Finally, he told them that he should go back home. He called and Tonks said that she would be there in about ten minutes.

Harry sat beside Hermione on the porch swing as he waited for Tonks.

"I know you're hiding something from me," Hermione said suddenly.

He sighed. "Why do you have to be so smart?"

"Don't try to dodge this."

"I'm scared."

Her eyes flashed in alarm. "Why?"

"When I tell you what I'm about to, you won't be my friend anymore. You shouldn't if you want to be safe."

"Harry just tell me."

"There's two prophecies, one by a witch and one by a goblin. Both of them say that it has to be me that finishes off Voldemort."

Hermione's gaped. "That's . . . that's terrible." She layed her head on his shoulder.

"If you want to be safe, you should distance yourself from me." The thought sent a spike of pain through his chest.

"How can you be so stupid? Of course I'm not going to abandon you. You're my best friend even if you have to fight a hundred Voldemorts."

Harry was at a loss for words. He was fully prepared for her to put up some resistance but to tell him off and state that she'd be there no matter what left him reeling.

"You really would, wouldn't you?"

"Don't ever doubt it. I care for you too much to let you do some noble thing like try to take on the most powerful Dark Wizard in history. You know you'll need my help."

Before he knew what he was doing, he was hugging her with all his strength. She stiffened but quickly wrapped her arms around him just as tight. Never before had Harry initiated a hug, and he thought that maybe just for Hermione, he'd make a habit of it.

"Am I interrupting anything?" Dora's asked and laughed as the two of them jerked apart. "I can come back later after your snuggling is all done."

"We weren't snuggling, Nymphadora," Harry hissed with scarlet cheeks.

The smile disappeared. "Sure you weren't and don't call me Nymphadora, Potter.

"It was just a hug," Hermione put in.

"Looked awful cozy to me," Dora commented. "Anyway, we'd better go, Harry."

Harry turned back to Hermione. "Thanks for a great lunch. I know I was a complete prat to have Tonks do that to you. She's a Metamorphmagus, you know."

"Really?" Harry could practically see the wheels spinning in her mind of all the facts that she knew about the rare ability.

"Guilty as charged," Tonks said with a mock bow and pat of her chest.

"Anyway, thanks for listening and for forgiving me."

"You're welcome."

They stood there for several long seconds, the tension building. Once again, Harry felt the pull, but Dora's presence helped him resist—barely. He gave her a quick hug and stepped back.

"See you soon, Mione."

She grinned. "I'm looking forward to it."

With a loud crack, Harry and Tonks disapparated.


	10. Chapter 10: Awakening

Harry twiddled his thumbs as he waited in a small conference room at Gringotts. Dora had dropped him off ten minutes ago before she went on to the Ministry to continue her Auror training. She had told him to tell her all about it, but he wasn't sure what he would say. If being able to use wandless magic was so rare, how would he even begin to describe it? He could barely describe Parseltongue to Ron and Hermione, and they had been there to hear it.

The longer he waited, the more his worry mounted. What if he couldn't ever control it? Gruknot seemed optimistic about the whole thing, but it hadn't been tested yet. So many things could go wrong and based on the track record of his life, things definitely will go wrong.

The door swung open and Gruknot waved Harry out of the room. "Come along, Mr. Potter. There's much to learn, and I have other things scheduled other than this fascinating experiment."

Harry blanched. "Wait. Experiment?"

"Of course, Mr. Potter. I checked the records. We haven't seen a true wandless wizard since 1297. His name was Eustace Cadderwald or Eustace the Wandless. Unfortunately, he never really understood the full writings of Merlin and was killed by a wand-wielder before he reached the age of 25."

"You have the original writings of Merlin?!" Harry shrieked.

"Of course not. That would be impossible. Most goblins believe that the supposed trove of all of his magical secrets never really existed and was a lie that was perpetuated by the Disciples of Morgana. In any case, I intend to make you see the full scope of your abilities so that when you return to Hogwarts, you can do so with less risk to your fellow students."

"Less risk?"

Gruknot tilted his head in a half-shrug. "There is always risk when learning magic, Mr. Potter. Even at Hogwarts, a student who is learning wand magic can wreak havoc. In the case of wandless magic and the potency of your particular magical core, the safer the better."

"I'm sure Dumbledore will be happy about that," Harry said.

"Yes, he actually stopped by the same day you were here, inquiring what business you had with Gringotts."

Harry rubbed his chin. "What did you tell him?"

"That it was none of his concern. He wasn't the Muggle or magical guardian so we could not disclose that information. He was, shall we say, less than pleased and made an idle threat about bringing the matter before the Wizengamot."

With a frown, Harry repeated, "Wizengamot?"

"Yes, the high court that makes and amends the laws for wizards. There are fifty members, all from old families or their representatives. Its leader is called the Chief Warlock and Albus Dumbledore currently holds that seat."

"What if he makes good on the threat?"

Gruknot shrugged as they walked along a long hallway that led to a golden door. "Even if he did, only I and few others know that you are a wandless wizard. Only those you tell will know it from here on out. I suggest that you keep it a secret for as long as you can. Allies can turn on you if they feel threatened or jealous. The Ministry isn't known for making smart decisions when they are influenced by fear."

"Speaking from experience?" Harry asked.

The goblin scholar opened the golden door. "My father was killed in the last so-called Goblin Rebellion of 1932. In truth, many goblins were slaughtered when we organized a large party for a former Director's son. In response, we attacked the Ministry and fought to a standstill, killing 24 wizards and witches in the process. Another treaty was signed and those that put the goblins to death were put to death."

Harry reached out and touched the goblin's shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. "I'm sorry, Gruknot. I know what it's like to lose family."

"Indeed." Gruknot was silent for a moment as he seated himself at a long desk that was stacked on all sides by books of all sizes.

"So what are we doing today?"

"Firstly, I need to know what I'm working with. To do that, I need to know your history. Starting from the very first time you remember using accidental magic, tell me everything about what happened that has anything to do with magic."

"That's going to take awhile," Harry stated while his mind flashed through dozens of memories.

Gruknot pulled out an enormous tome which was entitled Research Concerning Harry Potter the Wandless. "I don't have another appointment for six hours, Mr. Potter. Go ahead when you are ready. I promise anything that is said here will not go to anyone else except Director Ragnok should he ever require it for the Goblin Nation."

"Alright. Here goes." Harry proceeded to tell him everything. From the time he someone grew his hair back from being cut short in a single night to the shattering of the glass at his lunch with the Grangers yesterday. When he was done, his throat felt a little hoarse and he was thankful when Gruknot handed him a goblet of magically chilled water.

"By Gringotts, that is quite a tale!" Gruknot exclaimed at last. "You are not even 13 years old, and you have gone so far as to slay a basilisk. It staggers the mind."

Harry waved the compliment away. "I had help from Ron and Hermione to get to the Philosopher's Stone. Hermione was the one who figured out that it was a basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets."

The young goblin tapped a clawed finger on his cheek. "But it was you who killed Professor Quirrell and slew the basilisk with the Sword of Gryffindor. Still, from the sound of it, Ms. Granger seems to be an intelligent witch to be sure. I'm sure that if you decide to do so, she would be a great asset in helping you continue your studies at Hogwarts."

"What about Ron?"

Gruknot pressed his lips together until they formed a thin line. "While Mr. Weasley seems to be quite loyal, there seems to be undertones of jealousy in your story. I would tread carefully with how much you share with him. He may prove to be as loyal as you believe, or he may tell others of your wandless magic. Secrecy and the element of surprise are your best advantages at the moment. Even if Dumbledore were to learn of your power, he might try to manipulate you for his own ends."

"Ok." Harry didn't like that Gruknot had a point and he might have to hide something from Ron. "I've been thinking about telling Hermione, but it all seems to be too much. I did tell her about the prophecies."

"Oh?" Gruknot sounded surprised. "She took it well?"

"Yeah. I really think I can trust her with this."

"Then don't hesitate to tell her, Mr. Potter." Gruknot gestured to the center of the room. "Come now. We must begin your training."

At the center of the room, a huge runed seal had been carved into the floor. It looked ancient but had been kept in good condition with few cracks on the surface. Harry wondered what history lay behind it and with a touch of amusement, it made him think of something Hermione would want to know.

Gruknot touched the edge of the giant rune, and it glowed with a faint blue light. "This is known as the Great Seal of the Primordials."

"Who made it?" Harry asked.

"According to our legends, it was fashioned by an ancient wizard of terrible power. He was the first of those to wield magic when it was truly a fearsome thing to behold. With no one to check his power, he was worshiped by the ancients for his ability to manipulate the world around him."

"Sounds like what Voldemort dreams about," Harry muttered. "What happened to him?"

"No on really knows. The legend simply says that his name was lost to the ravages of time."

Harry smirked. "So he was the original He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

Gruknot snickered. "I suppose you are right, Mr. Potter. Quite amusing."

"Why is this here? What does the Seal do?"

The goblin folded his hands in front of him. "This was the first room to be built for the first royal scholar when goblins were permitted to have kings and armies. It was here that dozens of scholars would meet and share knowledge."

"Why isn't it like that anymore?"

Gruknot grimaced. "Most goblins do not care for the past anymore. They care only for what will help them conduct business and gain new assets. Gold does not satisfy, but they ladle more and more into personal vaults. It is the worst crime we have committed against ourselves."

"You never answered my question about the Seal," Harry pointed out.

With a smile, Gruknot nodded. "I apologize. Sometimes I get carried away. The Seal is here as a way for young goblins to learn to control their wandless magic. Usually, I would have twenty or thirty in here at a time and teach them."

Harry nodded. He felt awed that he would be afforded such an honor that was normally reserved for goblins. What would happen to him when he stepped onto the Seal?

Gruknot pointed at the smooth portion at the center of the Seal. "Be seated in the center of the Seal, and I will tell you how to proceed."

"What will happen?" Harry asked him as he slowly stepped onto the glowing rune.

"Just be seated, Mr. Potter. This is the only way to gain control of your magic."

"Ok." The stern instruction did little to counter Harry's growing worry. He sat down in the center and was surprised to find that the stone didn't feel uncomfortable. Maybe someone had put a Cushioning Charm on it.

"Now close your eyes." He waited until Harry complied. "Do you remember what it felt like to touch your magic at your uncle's house?"

"Yes," Harry said hesitantly, a wave of guilt washing over him at what he had nearly done to Aunt Marge.

"Focus on the magic, not the emotion of the moment," Gruknot instructed. "Let it be your sole focus. Nothing else matters but what that magic feels like. You told me that you have noticed when magic leaves you. Well, that was the only time you used a great deal of it in the recent past. Remember what that felt like."

"I felt . . . powerful like my magic could make it so that I wouldn't have to hear her insulting me or my parents again. Like I could do anything."

"What else was there?"

"Rage," Harry answered without hesitation.

"Yes. You let your emotions control the magic. The power got away from you, and that is why you could not stop. What I will be teaching you is how to control your emotions which will, in turn, control your magic."

"So all wandless magic is based on my emotions?"

"Technically, you are correct but it is more than that," the goblin answered with a bob of his head. "All magic is based on intent. You intended to silence your aunt and your magic responded. Now that your magical core has more power to deal out, the results were bigger than say, if you still had the Horcrux inside you."

"So how will I-"

"Let's find your center first, shall we?" Gruknot interrupted. "Close your eyes and feel the magic within you. It should feel warm and inviting."

Harry reached inward with his senses and found the radiating heat of his magical core. It felt odd, like having a sixth sense that he never knew he had. There was so much power there, filling him up. He could be invincible with it. Voldemort wouldn't stand a chance. Yet, even now, Harry could feel the magic trying to escape, like a caged animal snarling to be set free.

Gruknot snapped his fingers. "Think of something or someone that you value. It cannot be something that you like a little or is special to you. This something or someone is irreplaceable, something that calms you and makes you happy. Focus on that and use that as a way to not let yourself be carried away by the power you feel in your magical core."

Instantly, Harry thought of Hermione. He was shocked that she would come first and nothing else would be there. There should have been something else, like his Nimbus 2000 or his wand. Or maybe someone, like Ron, Tonks or Andromeda.

But there was only Hermione, smiling at him with her pretty eyes full of warmth.

"Do you have it?" Gruknot asked.

In an instant, there was a burst of power until his magic shifted into perfect clarity and balance. No longer did it feel wild and unrestrained. The memories that he had of Hermione had somehow awakened something within him that brought his magic within his control. It was like his magic was a kite, and she was his tether.

"Do you have it?" the goblin repeated.

Harry nodded. "I can see her."

"Can you still feel your core?"

"Yes, sir."

"Who is it you see?"

"Hermione. It's like she's at the eye of a hurricane, and the magic is the rest of the hurricane. I can feel it all, but it's not out of my control like before."

"Very good." Gruknot clapped his hands and gave a giggle of delight. Harry heard Gruknot lightly set something down that sounded like stone on stone.

"Should I open my eyes?" Harry asked.

"Not yet," Gruknot replied. "Can you feel anything near you, something that your magic might sense?"

Harry stretched outward with his senses. After several long moments, he felt it. It seemed more like an echo than anything else, but he could tell it was a stone vase. He felt the outline of it and the texture seemed very similar to what he felt from the stone floor. The enormity of this newfound sense made his pulse quicken.

"Yes," Harry said after a long moment. "There something near me-a stone vase I think."

"Reach for it," Gruknot instructed. "Command it to come to you. Reach out your hand and grasp it when it does. Make it come to you slowly. We wouldn't want you injured."

The memory of the piece of bread smacking him in the face made Harry hesitate.

Gruknot tapped his foot on the floor. "You have the power, Mr. Potter. You have the will. Use them."

Grasping it with his mind, Harry willed it to come to him and land in his hand as light as a feather. After a couple seconds, the vase slapped into his palm. At least it didn't break. He quickly grabbed it so it wouldn't fall to the floor.

"Fantastic! Oh, you would have been a natural goblin. Telekinesis and accurate sensing in your first lesson. I can only imagine how much control you'll have by the end of August."

"Thank you, sir." Harry opened his eyes and grinned at the sight of the stone vase.

"Well, I think that is enough of the practical for today, Mr. Potter."

"I thought you said we had hours left."

Gruknot nodded. "About 3 hours now. Time flies when you're having fun as the Muggles say."

"Well, what are we going to do then?" Harry inquired.

The young goblin scholar grinned, showing his pointed teeth. "Theory and research of course. I have about a dozen tomes that I'm going to have you read every day until you read all of them. They contain tales of wizards throughout the centuries who have used wandless magic. You may have more power than them, but that's no reason to abandon some good uses for what may someday save your life."

With a look of resignation, Harry grabbed the tome off the top and sat down on a stool since the chairs were far too big for him. This was going to be a long summer but at least he wouldn't have to slave away for the Dursleys.

Harry thought for a moment that it was the first time that they had truly crossed his mind since he left their 'care'. Some people might have missed them, despite the abuse they suffered. Whether it was because he was so happy now or something wrong with him, he hadn't missed them a bit. They didn't fill him with rage or the desire for revenge either. He simply never wanted to see them again and move on with his life.

The hours ticked by and finally, the allotted six hours were up. Gruknot led him back to the lobby and bowed low to Harry.

"I will see you tomorrow at the same time. Get some rest, Mr. Potter. You'll need it."

Harry chuckled. "Thanks for the warning."

The young wizard strolled through Diagon Alley for a few minutes. On a whim, he stepped into Flourish and Blotts and quickly found the newest edition of Hogwarts: A History. When he took it up to the cash desk, the lady asked him if it was for a friend and he nodded. She wrapped it up for him, and he made his way to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Hello again, Mr. Potter," Tom the bartender called out.

"Hey, Tom. Sorry, I don't have time to talk but I'm a bit knackered." He grabbed a handful of Floo powder.

"No problem at all, sir. Take care of yourself."

Harry tossed the powder into the orange flames, called out for Tonks Manor and disappeared into the green flames. In seconds, he was dusting himself off in the den before making his way up to his room.

"Is that you, Harry?" Andromeda called.

"Yeah, it's me."

"How did the training go with Gruknot?" she asked.

"Really well. I'll tell you all about it, but if it's ok, I'd like to lay down for a bit."

"Sure thing. I'll wake you in two hours."

"Sounds great." He trudged up the varnished wood stairs and set the wrapped book down on the nightstand before falling onto the bed. His mind felt full even as the power within him felt like he could take to the skies without a broom. The struggle against the two soon saw the mind winning hands down as Harry slipped into a deep sleep filled with dreams of a bearded man, goblins being murdered and a certain bushy-haired witch.


	11. Chapter 11: No More Secrets

Harry sat down at the small desk in his room a week later and took out some parchment to write a letter to Hermione. He could have called her, but this seemed like the thing to do. There had been so many times he had told her he would owl her and he hadn't because of his relatives. Now he would.

 _Dear Hermione,_

 _How is the homework coming along? I've begun working on mine which I'm sure surprises you and makes you happy. I know you don't like having to remind Ron and me to do it ahead of time. I know both of us appreciate all the help you do, fixing our mistakes._

 _I'm really sorry again about the stupid prank Dora and I pulled on you. I know you said you forgave me. Just know that I still feel terrible about it. Hopefully you aren't still mad about it. You probably aren't. You always were quick to forgive me for being dense._

 _I liked your idea of us studying together. Would it be alright if I stopped by tomorrow? Maybe we can hang out after we are done studying? There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about._

 _Well, Hedwig seems to be getting impatient for me to give her something, so I'll just end it here._

 _Your best friend,_

 _Harry_

He folded the letter into an envelope and handed it to Hedwig along with a treat. She hooted in delight at the treat and being able to fly again. With a great flap of her wings, she was gone.

Harry spent another morning at Gringotts with Gruknot. The magic was beginning to flow through him easier each day and he was learning more about the incredible feats that wandless wizards had performed in the past. One had fended off ten Dark Wizards at once although he lost his right arm in the battle. Another used his wandless magic for research and discovered six healing spells, the Bubblehead Charm and temporarily reanimated three bodies which he called Inferi.

Despite the long days, Harry still looked forward to learning and hoped that it would be enough to avoid any other accidental magic. Gruknot had been teaching him Occlumency as well to help him keep control of his emotions and build up defenses against any invasion of his mind.

Harry had just sat down at his desk after a grueling day at Gringotts when Hedwig floated down to rest on his shoulder, a letter from Hermione in her talon. Harry quickly opened it after giving Hedwig a treat.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _You know me so well. I'm about halfway through the summer homework, but I've hit a snag on the DADA portion. Maybe you can help me with it, because the book seems to contradict itself. I would love for us both to be able to study together. Would you be able to come over today or is that too soon? I know you mentioned tomorrow, but I'd like to see you today if your schedule works._

 _As for the incident from last week, don't worry about it. You're right about me being quick to forgive. I think this especially applies to you. Ron seems to be driven to dig his own grave. It still hurts that you did that to me, but it's fading. I'm sure I won't feel anything more about it in another week. I do really accept your apology so don't beat yourself up about it._

 _I hope you don't have bad news to share with me. That doesn't mean you shouldn't tell me. Just know that I worry about you. I'm really looking forward to seeing you today or tomorrow, whichever is convenient._

 _Yours,_

 _Hermione_

Harry grinned and felt that familiar warm sensation in his chest. Making his way downstairs, he found Andromeda seated in an armchair by the fair. The light from a nearby lamp made her eyes flicker with a hint of mischief that reminded Harry very much of Dora.

"What is it, Harry? Come to read more books? Have a seat."

"No, I just wanted to ask you something." He fidgeted with side of his shirt.

She placed book down, all mirth gone from her eyes. "Something wrong?"

"N-no," he stammered. "I wanted to know if . . . if I could go see Hermione today."

"Oh." Andromeda chuckled. "I thought . . . well, nevermind. Of course you want to see your girlfriend."

Harry's cheeks burned. "She's not my girlfriend!"

"Give it time. I'm sure she will be."

As she put on her shoes, Harry asked, "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I saw the look she gave you when you bumped into her in Diagon Alley. Dora told me about what happened last week and it certainly sounds like she was more upset at you because she feel something very strong for you."

"Maybe that's just because she's my best friend," he suggested even though he hoped that wasn't it. The thought of her being his girlfriend made his heart race.

"Figure out what you feel for her first and when you do, tell her," Andromeda said.

"What if she doesn't feel the same? What if it ruins everything?"

Andromeda gave him a sad smile. "It took me a long time to figure things out with Ted and even longer for him to pluck up the courage to ask me to Hogsmeade. I said yes and it caused quite the stir among my fellow Slytherins."

"You were a Slytherin?"

"What's wrong? Don't want to live with a Snake?" Her lips curled into a sneer that would have made Malfoy proud but the mirth was back in her eyes.

He sighed. "If only other Slytherin's had your sense of humor."

"Yes, I know." She stood. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah." He took her hand and they disapparated.

They apparated around the corner and strolled up to the Granger's house. Harry knocked on the door while Andromeda waited patiently beside him. When the door swung open, Harry felt a little intimidated by Dan Granger standing there. He had hoped that Hermione would answer the door.

"Harry?" He seemed a little puzzled to see him. Did Hermione not mention that he might be coming over? With a grimace, he realized that he hadn't called to confirm that he would.

"Um, Hermione invited me over, but if she's busy, I can come back tomorrow."

"No, please, come in. Sorry, she didn't mention anything about it to me. I'm sure Emma knows though."

Once they were in the door, Andromeda exchanged pleasantries. Emma stepped out of a side room, looking smart in a knee-length skirt and blouse.

"Why Harry, I wasn't sure you'd be here. Forget how to use a Muggle phone?"

Harry narrowed his eyes but smirked. "I just forgot."

Hermione dashed down the stairs with an easy smile and gave him a soft hug. It felt so different from her usual hugs that he wasn't sure that she was hugging him until it was over. "Harry, it's so good to see you."

"Yeah, you too."

"Well, we were just headed into the office to finish to deal with a mix-up with paperwork," Emma said. "Do you two want to just stay here and work on your schoolwork?"

Dan's frowned at his wife. "I'm not sure that that's entirely appropriate, dear."

"Nonesense," she replied. "I'm sure Harry will be a perfect gentleman. Won't you?" The last two words had a dangerous sweetness to them. The expression on her face was the same one that Hermione had when she reminded them to do homework that was due the next day.

"Yes ma'am."

"Ugh, come on, Harry. Let's get started and we might be able to finish on the Defense homework that's been plaguing me." She led him upstairs and stepped into her room.

Harry paused, unsure of what to do. He was here, in her house and about to walk into her bedroom. It seemed strange somehow to even be at the threshold of it.

The room seemed to be just another expression of Hermione. Books lined the walls and a large desk held a stack of more books along with a jar of quills. An equally large jar of pens sat next to it. Creme-colored walls and two lamps made the room have a warm ambiance that reminded him of the Libary at Hogwarts.

 _That's probably intentional_ , he thought.

"You going to stand there all day?" she asked, snapping him out of his reverie.

"Oh, yeah. I mean, no." He stepped into the room.

"First time in a girl's room?" she teased.

"Not exactly," he said. "I had to go into Ginny's room once at the Burrow, but this is different."

"Why?"

"Oh, she forgot something and Ron asked me to get it for her," he explained. "She still couldn't talk to me last year, you know."

She rolled her eyes. "No, why is it different?"

"Well, because it's your room." He shifted uncomfortably. "You know. You're Hermione and uh, you're in it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She put one hand on her hip. "My room not good enough? Well, I suppose we could go study downstairs. It does probably remind you of the Library at school, doesn't it?"

 _Damn, she practically can read minds_ , he thought.

"No, here's fine. I like your room," he said, trying to dig himself out of this hole.

"Just not with me in it."

"That's not it. I like your room with you in it." He blushed.

Hermione arched an eyebrow. "Then why are you so uncomfortable?"

 _Because I bloody fancy you!_ his mind screamed.

"It's just different with the girl in the room at the same time as me," he answered.

"That doesn't really explain why it's different with me," she pointed out with evident irritation. "I mean, you obviously know that I'm a girl, right?"

"That's the problem, Mione." His shoulders sagged in defeat. "I know that you're a girl."

"That makes zero sense, Harry. Boys!" She threw her hands up in exasperation.

"It'd be different if you weren't beautiful," he blurted before clamping his mouth shut.

"What?" she squeaked. After a long moment of deafening silence, she repeated, "What?"

"N-nothing, Mione. We should get to that DADA homework."

"No, Harry." She stepped closer to him, and he could feel the blood thundering in his ears. "I've never been called beautiful by anyone other than my parents. Why did you call me that?"

"Because you obviously are," he snapped and winced. "I just don't like it when you tear yourself down like you always do. You're not just someone who's brilliant and clever. You're beautiful and I just had to say it I guess."

She took another step closer and before he knew it, they were inches apart. "Thank you, Harry."

He gulped silently. "You're welcome."

Before he could convince himself not to, Harry leaned in and placed his lips gingerly on hers. She stiffened just a little before melting into the kiss. It lasted only a few seconds before they both pulled away.

"Wow," she breathed.

"Yeah," he gasped. "That was . . ."

"Amazing." After a moment, worry filled her eyes. "Why did you kiss me?"

Oh no. She didn't really mean it. She liked the kiss but regrets it. Now she'll hate me.

"Harry." Her face was now approaching the look that he knew would lead to her crying.

Summoning all of his Gryffindor courage, he reached out and took both of her hands in his. "I fancy you, Hermione. A lot. I can't make it a single day without thinking about you. I know you may not feel the same but after that kiss, I really think you do."

"Of course I do, you silly boy!"

Harry grinned. "Well then . . . would you be my girlfriend?"

Her answer was kissing him fiercely and running her fingers through his hair. His heart hammered in his chest, and he felt his magic swirl all around them. Her touch was like fire but filled him with more power than he had ever felt with his wandless magic. It wasn't the same but it was a mighty magic in itself.

 _Is this what being in love feels like? Do I love Hermione?_

Finally, they broke apart with gasps as their lungs struggled to regain oxygen. They were grinning at each other like two Cheshire cats.

"I think this is exactly what your dad was afraid would happen if we were left alone," Harry said.

Hermione giggled softly. Wait. Hermione Granger could giggle? What else was she hiding? That train of thought quickly sped on through was she hiding beneath those clothes. He blushed furiously.

"What were you just thinking?" she teased.

"Um, something that I hope to find out someday," he replied, hoping she wouldn't press him.

"Anything to do with me?" Hermione inquired.

"Yeah. It does."

"You'll tell me someday."

"Count on it."

She nodded with a small smile. "I'm going to hold you to that, Mr. Potter."

"Hermione, there something else you should know. Well, a lot of things you should know. Before anything else though, I need to tell you, I don't have any clue how to be a good boyfriend. So, um, considered yourself warned."

She gave him a quick peck on the lips. "I've never had a boyfriend. Just be yourself, Harry. All that will change will be how we feel about each other and maybe some snogging."

"Sounds too good to be true," he remarked.

She smirked. "Well, I think that you and I will be able to work through anything."

Harry sat down on her bed, his face suddenly serious. "Hermione, there's something really big I haven't told you. I keep running through the conversation in my head, but I can never see the outcome."

"You're starting to worry me," Hermione said as she sat next to him.

"I would be worried if you weren't," he said with a light chuckle.

"Does this have anything to do with why you were in Diagon Alley that day?"

"Yeah, but it started at the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry."

Hermione blinked three times. "Why were you there?"

"I spoke to the two Chief Unspeakables about my accidental magic."

Her eyes big as saucered, Hermione urged, "Well, keep going."

"They did a ritual with some runestones and found out that I'm a special kind of wizard and my magical core had been blocked by something. The basilisk venom broke the block and now I have full access to my magical core. There was just too much magic for me to control and that's what was causing my accidental magic."

"Who would have put a block like that on you?"

"I think . . . it might have been Dumbledore."

"What? Why would he do that?"

"Think about it, Hermione. Dumbledore's the most powerful wizard alive. I'm told that my magical core could be equal to his. Who else could have done it?"

"You . . . could be more powerful than Dumbledore?" Hermione gave him a skeptical look. "How is this possible?"

"I don't know. The lead scholar of the goblins is looking into it for me. I've been training with him."

"Why don't you train with the Unspeakables or get a tutor?"

He hesitated. "This is the thing I'm scared to tell you. I'll understand if you don't want to be my girlfriend anymore, but please you mustn't tell anyone."

She reached out and squeezed his hand. "I'm not going anywhere no matter what you say."

"Okay." He took a deep breath. "I'm a wandless wizard."

Hermione cocked her head to the side. "What do you mean? Did you lose your ability to use your wand?"

"No. I can use my wand just fine, I think. I just can do magic without one. Any magic. Some magic that can't be done with a wand too, but I haven't figured that out yet."

Her jaw dropped. "Y-you're not kidding, are you?"

He shook his head slowly.

She wrapped her arms around him. "Oh, I wish you didn't have to be burdened by more things. First the prophecy and knowing Voldemort is after you personally. I suppose the universe is against you."

"Well, at least Voldemort doesn't know I'm a wandless wizard."

She straightened and pecked him on the cheek. "You should keep it that way."  
"Do you think we should tell Ron?"

"Why wouldn't you tell Ron?" she asked with a quizzical look.

"It's just that he thinks I already have it too good with being rich and famous already. This might push him over the edge, and I don't want to lose his friendship. I mean, he was my first friend."

Hermione was quiet for almost a minute. "You should tell him. If you don't, and he finds out later on, you will lose his friendship. If he won't accept you for who you are, then he isn't a real friend.

"I guess that makes sense," Harry said.

"I think he'll be okay with it. We've been through a lot together, the three of us."

"Well, you're the brilliant one. If you say it will work out, I believe you."

"That's what's so great about you, Harry." She kissed his cheek. "Even when you are so doubtful, you believe in the best out of people."

"Yeah. It doesn't always work out though," he reminded her. "Quirrell turned out to be the bad guy and Dumbledore might have done more harm than even I know."

She frowned. "How bad is it?"

With a sigh, he said, "I know for sure that he never checked up on me at the Dursleys. If you could see I was malnourished, why couldn't Madam Pomfrey? I'm sure she told Dumbledore. Maybe they really were too busy to see it, but that doesn't make it right."

"No. It doesn't." She stood and grabbed her Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook. "Enough of this depressing stuff. I need you to explain this bit about Hinkypunks and ghosts."

"Oh, that reminds me." He handed her the wrapped book. "I got you something as another way of saying how sorry I was for the other day."

"Harry, you didn't have to. I told you I forgave you. I'm not even mad anymore. You made me happier than I've ever been today."

"Still, I want you to have it," he said. "Think of it as your boyfriend's first gift to you."

She gave him a radiant smile as she tore the wrapping paper. When her eyes fell on the new edition of her favorite book, tears glistened in her chocolate eyes.

"You're wrong, Harry. You know exactly how to be a good boyfriend."


	12. Chapter 12: Facing Fears

As the summer drew to a close, Harry looked back at all he had accomplished in such a short amount of time. His time at the Dursley seemed like they had happened to someone else a lifetime ago. No longer was there fear of beatings or starvation. He had a family who loved him, and Hermione who liked him very much.

During the last week of August, Gruknot led Harry into a large empty room. Ten training dummies were arranged in a circle facing the center of the room. Gruknot gestured for Harry to take the center spot and the young wizard hesitantly obeyed.

"This is a bit more than we've practiced in the past," Harry commented.

"This is your final day of training for this year, Mr. Potter." Gruknot grinned. "And you won't just be dueling them. If you manage to defeat them, I have a surprise opponent for you."

"Who?"

"Maybe it's a what. Don't think about it. You already have a difficult fight on your hands. Ready?"

Harry took in a deep breath, drew his wand and let it out slowly. He saw Gruknot arch an eyebrow at the use of it, but the goblin said nothing. With a wave of his hand, the dummies came alive, wands brandished and all trained on him.

Before they could utter a spell, Harry went on the offensive. "Confrigo! Expelliarmus! Stupify! Bombarda!"

The dummies silently fired spell after spell at him, making no attempt to defend themselves. Once they lost their wands or were hit by a spell, they stopped moving. In seconds, Harry reduced them to 8 but even in an ambush, 8-to-1 were horrible odds.

A disarming charm flung his wand away from him. He rolled away from two stinging hexes and a red hex he didn't recognize. Reaching for his wandless magic, he swung out his hand with a single shout. "REDUCTO!"

The force of the blasting hex decapitated two of the dummies and burned a hole in another's throat.

 _3 down, 5 to go._

A red spell struck him and every nerve in his body lit up with pain beyond anything he ever felt. If Uncle Vernon had ever wanted to beat the magic out of him, this would have been the way to do it. Somewhere in Harry's brain remembered the name of one of the Unforgivables, the Cruciatus. It was well-named as the Torture Curse.

His body still spasming, Harry silently cast a Protego shield on himself that caused three more spells to ricochet. As he wobbled to his feet, he took a step back to steady himself. That proved to be a very lucky thing since another red bolt past directly in front of his face from his left, missing him by inches.

Harry reached for his magic and pulled up two stones from the floor and flung them toward the two dummies on his left. One of them had cast the Cruciatus Curse at him. Both seemed to have the same idea to cast it again because a red curse blasted the rocks to bits but thankfully, did not allow the dark magic to pass through. Bits of gravel riddled the floor and peppered Harry's arm as he threw out two Hurling Hexes. The dummies fell flat on their backs.

 _3 left_ , Harry marked as he sidestepped two hexes.

"EXPULSO!" He bellowed as he took a glancing Petrificus Totalus to his right harm which suddenly went limp. To his satisfaction, another dummy exploded which in turned knocked another over to crack its head on the stone floor.

"Finite Incantatem," Harry uttered as he focused on his limp arm, and a surge of magic flowed into it.

The final dummy cast a golden beam of light from its wand that struck Harry in the chest. Instead of pain, a lovely floating sensation filled Harry up. Gone were the worries of the duel and what else Gruknot might have planned for him. What did it matter now that the world was so perfect?

 _Then where is Hermione?_ He thought.

In an instant, he recognized that he was nearly lost to the Imperious Curse, the second Unforgiveable he had been hit with tonight. It could make a person do anything from murder to committing suicide. Hardening his will, he pushed back against the feeling until he was left feeling his normal self, wounded and all.

 _Might as well have all three shown_ , Harry thought.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Green light flashed from Harry's outstretched palm, and the Killing Curse struck the dummy in the chest. It toppled over, and Harry winced.

Gruknot began to clap slowly with a toothy smile. "Not bad, Mr. Potter. You made a great many mistakes in the duel, but you still came out on top. Against better odds, I have no doubt that you would succeed."

Harry gave him his best grin.

The goblin stopped clapping as the smile evaporated from his face. "However, it remains to be seen if you are capable of facing your fears and fighting one on one. So here is your final opponent."

Out of the shadows stepped a cloaked figure, a wand in one hand. In a slow movement, he pulled back his hood to reveal pale skin, red reptilian eyes and a chilling smile. The face was vaguely familiar, although to be fair, the last time Harry had seen it, the face had been on the back of someone else's head.

"I am Lord Voldemort. The time has come, Harry Potter, for you to die."

"What the hell is this, Gruknot?" Harry demanded.

"Ignore the pathetic goblin filth!" Voldemort snapped in a high, cold voice. "Focus on me. You have only moments left."

Whether this was a trick or a trap, Harry steeled himself and gathered his magic. He felt it like a rushing thrum in his blood and knew that he could prevail if he could do the right spell at the right time.

"Die!" Voldemort shouted, and green light shot from his wand.

Harry spun, pulled one of the floor tiles up with his magic and with a touch of his will, it flew toward the Dark Lord. Again, it exploded as it had with the dummies, but Harry was already moving, flinging two Reductos and a Confringo that were both deflected by Voldemort. Worry began to fill his heart, and he wondered if this was it. Was he finally going to find out what it felt like to be struck dead in a single green burst of light?

"I'll kill you just like I did your filthy Mudblood mother!" Voldemort snarled. "She begged for her life and your father died before he could even reach his wand.

"Shut up, you bastard!" Harry shouted back. "They sacrificed themselves for me."

"They were pathetic and you are nothing compared to even them. You think you stand a chance against me, the greatest Sorcerer in the world? HA!"

The last words echoed in his ears as Harry locked eyes, emerald to scarlet, with the Dark Lord. They were the very same words that Tom Riddle's memory, a Horcrux, had spoken to him. If he could beat Voldemort then, why not now?

Another burst of the Killing Curse spat toward Harry who side-stepped it. His palm raised, he didn't even think of a particular spell. He just thought one word: DIE!

There was no magnificent burst of magic from Harry although he certainly felt his power leave him. In what might seem anti-climactic, Lord Voldemort simply dropped dead, the life leaving his eyes. Harry looked on at his nemesis and felt a surge of relief that was as strong as his exhaustion.

"Well done, Mr. Potter! Well done, indeed."

Harry's wand flew to his hand, and he pointed it at Gruknot, his green eyes glinting dangerously. "What was all this? That's not really him, is it?"

The scholar shook his head. "I'm afraid that when you do eventually face Voldemort, he will be far superior to what you just faced."

"Then what in Merlin's name was that?!"

With a gesture from the goblin, Voldemort's body melted away to reveal another dummy.

"I had it charmed to look like him and cast a green spell. You were supposed to believe it to be the Killing Curse so that the effect would seem real. If you didn't think he was a real threat, you wouldn't feel the fear, and I needed you to face that fear head-on. You are a true Gryffindor, Mr. Potter."

"You lied," Harry stated bluntly.

Gruknot sighed. "Yes. Perhaps it was beneath me, but it is done. I am your teacher. I have taught you how to control your wandless magic, and if I do say so myself, I think I have done quite admirably in that regard. I do not apologize for tricking you. It made you stronger."

"If you were a wizard, I might suspect you to be a Slytherin, Gruknot." A small smile played on Harry's lips.

"Considering that you told me that you were nearly in that House, I'll take that as a compliment," Gruknot replied.

Harry gave a small nod. "So, all this summer fun is done I guess."

The goblin chuckled. "For this year, Mr. Potter. As long as you can manage to drag yourself here next year, I'll be happy to train you further. The Dark Lord won't wait forever to regain his body. We must be ready for when he does, I doubt he will be the forgiving type."

"Do you know how he will regain a body?" Harry asked.

Gruknot shrugged. "There a dozen ways for him to do so, each more complex and difficult than the last. An ancient potion is said to exist, though how he would ingest it as mere spirit is beyond me. Even if he possessed another man, there would still be the other's magical core to consider. An adult wizard's core will react to possession with hostility."

"Then how did Quirrell manage it?" Harry rubbed his chin.

"Many ways of Dark Magic still remain unknown even to me," Gruknot said with a pained expression. "In the meantime, be mindful of your surroundings and especially of the company you keep."

"I thought I might tell Ron about all this. I'll do it gradually so he gets used to it."

"That is your choice, Mr. Potter. I advise against it, but it is your secret to tell. Ms. Granger may be the exception, not the rule."

They strolled through the large hand-carved tunnel and up the stairs to the lobby. It would be so strange to not step through these doors on a daily basis.

 _I might actually miss hanging around goblins_ , Harry thought which was certainly different than what he had ever imagined when he first stepped into Gringotts with Hagrid.

Gruknot bowed low. "Until next we meet, Mr. Potter."

Harry bowed his head low in return which left several goblins gawking. "I'm looking forward to his Gruknot. May your gold overflow, and the riches of knowledge flow greater still."

The goblin scholar guffawed. "You have been reading up on greetings and salutations. There's hope for the Wizarding World yet."

With a nod and a big smile, Harry left Gringotts. He made his way to meet Dora back at Tonks Manor and to see Hermione. He couldn't wait to tell her all about it. She would probably have a heart attack when he got to the bit about the fake Voldemort, but she'd live through it. Hermione probably worried more for him than even Andromeda. It was a wonderful feeling and even though he didn't like to make her worry, it was encouraging all the same that his girlfriend was constantly wanting the best for him.


	13. Chapter 13: The Dementor

Harry and Hermione arrived at King's Cross a half hour early. The train station was full of a variety of people with a few wizarding families beginning to say their goodbyes to their children. Some of them were going for their first year, and a small pain struck Harry in the chest that no one had been there to wish him goodbye when he was eleven.

Even though it's been weeks since I saw them, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia still find a way to punch me in the gut one more time.

He had said his goodbyes to Andromeda, Ted and Dora earlier that morning before meeting up with Hermione's parents at their home. Andromeda had concealed her tears and told Harry to write to her as often as he wanted. Before he left, she handed him a signed permission slip for him to visit Hogsmeade which earned her an extra goodbye hug.

"Now Hermione, don't forget to write to us about your new classes," Emma said. "I'm sure you'll do great in them. We are so proud of you."

Dan turned to Harry. "I know that you'll try to stay out of trouble, Harry, but it does seem to follow you around."

Harry waited for him to continue.

"Just do your best to steer clear of it. Use your head. You seem like a good kid, and my Hermione could do much worse. Honestly, I'm shocked you are as nice as you are, given your upbringing with the Dursleys."

Harry's brow creased slightly. "I'm not sure where you're going with this, sir."

Dan put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Just watch out for her, will you? Don't put her in danger if you can absolutely do everything you can to help it. Keep a cool head. Understand?"

With a nod, Harry reached out and shook Dan's hand firmly. "I'll do my best, sir."

Emma reached out and pulled Harry into a hug right after she had done the same to Hermione. "We are so grateful that Hermione has grown closer to you. I've never seen her happier."

Hermione blushed with a big smile but did not correct her mother.

"You both watch out for each other and study hard," Emma said sternly.

"Yes ma'am," Harry said quickly.

"It's still Emma, dear," Hermione's mother chided.

"Sorry. I'll remember next time."

"Come on, Harry. I want to get a good compartment before they fill up." Hermione waved at her parents. "I love you both, and I'll see you at Christmas."

"We love you too sweetheart!" Emma called as both she and Dan waved.

Harry and Hermione stepped through the barrier to Platform 9 ¾ and made their way onto the Hogwarts Express. It took them about 5 minutes before they found a compartment near the middle that had longer windows for what Hermione assured him were better views of the scenery.

Hermione fidgeted with one of her books for a minute before one of her hands dropped down to the seat. It didn't go unnoticed by Harry who was puzzled for a moment by the obvious action. Why did she do that? In a flash of understanding he knew.

She wants me to hold her hand, he thought.

Reaching out, he entwined his fingers in hers and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

Hermione beamed at him. "Thank you, Harry. I was worried that . . . well, it's silly to say."

Harry asked, "You were worried that I changed my mind?"

"Not really. I just thought that maybe you didn't want people to see you with me just yet. People may not understand why you wanted to be with me. Especially Ron."

At the mention of their best friend's name, Harry felt the urge to let go of her hand as if the red-haired Gryffindor was walking into the compartment. He felt his face flush at the shame he felt and was glad he didn't act on it. Hermione was self-conscious about their relationship already. Harry could tell that she was worried that it wouldn't last because of other girls that might be interested in him. He had done his best to reassure her, but it would probably just take time.

I hope, he thought.

"I'm sure Ron will be fine with it," he said. "Even if he's not, I'm not letting you go, Mione. I really like you and I won't let Ron's temper get between us. And the rest of them can hang for all I care."

She smiled again and gave him a deep kiss.

Just then, the compartment door opened and a dumbfounded Ron was standing in the doorway.

"H-how? When? You . . . explain!" His face grew redder with each passing second.

"Honestly Ron, we were just kissing," Hermione said as she opened her book again. Despite her attempt to play it off, she was blushing madly.

Ron closed the door and an awkward silence fell in the compartment for almost five minutes.

"Why were you kissing Hermione?" Ron blurted. "I mean, she's well . . ."

"My girlfriend?" Harry offered.

"Girlfriend? Mate, you know you don't have to go for her just because she's our friend."

Harry fought the urge to snap at his ginger friend. "I'm not, Ron. I really like her, and she likes me. How hard is that to get?"

"Aren't you too a little, you know, young?" Ron glanced at Hermione, but she seemed to be tuning out of the conversation.

"We're dating, Ron. It's not like we're getting married tomorrow."

"You know what I mean."

It was quiet again for a few minutes.

"You gonna be ok with this?" Harry asked finally. "With us?"

"Oh, so you two are already an 'us', are you?" Ron said with a small smile. "Yea, just give me some time to wrap my head around it. It's just the shock of it all. I never saw it coming."

"I never did either until the basilisk."

Hermione lifted her eyes, suddenly very interested in the conversation again.

"A thousand-year-old serpent made you realize you liked me?" she asked wryly. "How romantic."

"Well, when I woke up and you were holding my hand, I started to feel something." He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "It all started there I guess."

"No wonder you were so pissy when we were at Flourish and Blotts," Ron said quickly.

"Harry kept his temper just fine," Hermione informed him. "He even spoke to Malfoy without hexing him. You were being a prat so my reaction was perfectly understandable."

Ron's eyes flashed. "Malfoy? What the bloody hell were you doing talking to that slimy git?"

Harry shrugged.

"Seriously Harry, why? Were you telling him off because of what his Dad did to Ginny?"

"No." Harry wasn't sure what Ron's reaction would be. After a moment, he decided that it would come out eventually. "I was basically making him stop being my enemy."

"How are you planning on doing that? He basically hates you. Always has."

"Some of that is my fault, Ron. You know we have been just as bad as him sometimes. I could have been nicer to him."

Ron grimaced. "I still don't like it. He's a Slytherin, and Snakes can't be trusted. It's not like he's going to suddenly want to become your friend. You don't want that, right? Please tell you that you don't want that because if you do, I swear I will have you checked for the Imperius Curse."

Harry chuckled. "I don't need to make him my friend. I'm really not even looking to make him my ally."

Rubbing his temples, Ron muttered something that sounded like, "Bloody mental."

"I just need to be left alone this year. If I can be a little nice to Draco to get that, then I will. There's too much at stake now."

"What do you mean? And since when are you on first name basis with him?"

"I told him I would call him that, and you know that someday Voldemort—stop shuddering Ron—will come back. I need to be ready so I'll be studying more this year with Charms and DADA. Who know? I might even get Snape to give me a passing grade."

The ginger wizard snorted. "Sure thing and then he'll twirl around the Great Hall and sing praises about how great your Dad was."

The train edged away from London and began chugging toward Scotland. It was a quiet trip, punctuated only by Ron's occasional talks about Quidditch or a discussion with Hermione about something she had just read. Whenever the latter happened, Ron would roll his eyes.

"You're gonna turn him into a bookworm if you're not careful, Hermione," He joked.

She gave him an icy stare. "And what's so wrong with liking books, Ronald?"

"Well uh, you know that Harry's never really been into books like you have. Actually, outside of Ravenclaw, no one's really into books as much as you."

"Books don't make me cry or sent me toward a troll," she replied. With a sigh, she added, "Don't worry, Ron. I don't hold it against you. You should really learn to think before you speak though."

Ron opened his mouth as if to say something when the train suddenly slowed and finally came to a stop. He peered through the large window at the dark night.

"Why have we stopped?" Harry asked before he poked his head out of the compartment.

"No idea," Hermione replied.

The lights winked out and before they knew it, people were stumbling into each other in the corridor. Harry thought he heard Neville and Ginny cry as they tripped over one another, but it was hard to tell with all of the ruckus. His attention was more focused on a man was stepping through the corridor, a ball of blue flame held in the palm of his hand. Wandless magic? Who was he?

The man's face looked haggard but alert. His wand was out before him, but he paused when he saw Harry. Something in the look made Harry think that the man recognized him. It might have been the flicker of the light, but the man seemed to pale.

"Get back in your compartments," he ordered calmly. "We have—"

Harry was wondering what had stopped the man from speaking when he saw it. A looming figure, hooded and cloaked could be seen from the light of the blue flame. Before Harry could ask what it was, a withered skeletal hand reached out for him, sucking in a deep breath.

The air seemed to drop fifty degrees in a second, chilling Harry to the bone, but his body refused to shiver. Even deeper still, the cold reached for his magical core, to his very soul. He felt his eyes roll back in his head as he floated down into the depths of the cold. It was an abyss that he couldn't escape if he wanted to, a suffocating ocean that drowned him before he could think to breathe.

Throughout it all, a woman was screaming and the sound slowly intensified. Faint flashes of green floated throughout but it wasn't long before the scream and the cold were so intermingled that he thought he must be dead.

"None of us are hiding Sirius Black," the strange man's voice echoed in Harry's head.

A surge of magic snapped him back to his senses as a white light pulsed from the wizard's wand, driving back the cloaked intruder. He still felt the cold and at a glance, he wondered how he had managed to be on his back on the floor. His vision still felt hazy, and the cold still held its grip on his heart.

Someone slapped him on each cheek.

"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione asked, her eyes brimming with tears.

"You . . . slapped me," he stated in shock.

"Sorry. I had to make sure you didn't pass out again."

His eyebrows shot up. "Again?"

"Yes. You fell on your back."

"You started twitching when you were on the floor," Ron spoke up. "We thought you were having a fit or something."

"What was that thing anyway?" Harry asked of the wizard who stood in the doorway. "And who are you?"

"That was a dementor from Azkaban," the man explained. "And I am Remus Lupin, your new Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"Well, I'm bloody well impressed," Ron said. "You've already got to be better than Quirrell and Lockhart combined."

Lupin smiled before he fished out a bar of chocolate out of his coat. "Break this up between yourselves. It will help with the effects of the dementors."

Harry gave him a skeptical look.

"Eat," Lupin ordered. "You'll feel better for it."

As he watched Professor Lupin walk away, he took a bite of chocolate. It did help, and Harry could immediately feel the warmth returning to him. He reminded himself that he would do his best not to cross paths with a dementor ever again.

"Sure you're okay, mate?" Ron asked.

"I'm fine," he answered.

Hermione gave him a look that told him that she didn't believe him in the slightest and shuddered. "It felt so cold."

"Yea," Ron agreed. "There was something worse too—like I'd never be cheerful again."

"I heard screaming," Harry blurted.

"Screaming?" Ron frowned. "Nope. I didn't. Hermione?"

A concerned look was plastered on her face. "No."

Harry sighed. "Just forget I said anything. At least no one saw me faint or whatever."

As they made their way up the stairs, Harry couldn't help but wonder why he had fallen apart but the others hadn't. He had heard some girls crying in other compartments, but there was no talk of anyone else fainting.

What's wrong with me? He thought. And who was screaming?

More questions and no answers. He thought for a moment and decided that he would talk about it with Professor Lupin. The professor seemed to know his stuff about dementors so he might have an explanation for the screaming.

Shortly thereafter, McGonagall had led Harry to see Madam Pomfrey. After insisting that he was fine and he had already been given chocolate, he was ushered away by Hermione. They made their way into the Great Hall, but the delay had caused them to miss the Sorting. They took a seat next to Ron and were as ready as their ever-hungry friend to tuck into the delicious food.

However, Dumbledore stood and welcomed everyone to Hogwarts before announcing that he had a few announcements. Harry could tell that Dumbledore was angry. The young wizard still wasn't sure how he felt about Dumbledore's negligence, but whatever was pissing the Headmaster off had to be bad.

"As you all know, there was indeed a dementor that was on the Hogwarts Express on its way here today," Dumbledore began. "The following very serious announcement will affect all of you for the coming year."

Harry felt his stomach drop. No. Please no.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Until further notice, Hogwarts will play host to the dementors of Azkaban who are here on Ministry of Magic business. They will be stationed at every entrance to the grounds. Nobody is to leave school without permission. dementors can see through tricks, disguises and even invisibility cloaks."

Harry glanced at Ron who silently gulped.

"It is not in the nature of a dementor to understand pleas for help or excuses," Dumbledore continued. "Do not give them any reason to harm you. I'm sure that our Head Boy and Girl and Prefects will help keep the rest of the students from interacting with the dementors."

Moving on to lighter things, Dumbledore announced Lupin's assignment to the DADA post and Hagrid's surprising assignment as the new teacher of Care of Magical Creatures. He did note that Snape was glaring at Lupin with an unusual amount of loathing, something normally reserved just for Harry. That would definitely be something to ask Lupin about whenever he got to speak with him about the dementor from the train.

After the feast was over, the Gryffindors shuffled up to their common room and most of them went straight to bed. A fire was already going and Harry decided that he could still use some warming up. After he sat down on the comfortable couch directly in front of it, he was pleasantly surprised to find Hermione placing herself right next to him.

His girlfriend held his hand and placed her head on his shoulder. "I was so worried for you."

Harry squeezed her hand. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not. You're just too stubborn to admit it. It's ok to feel weak about something or confused. You can be just Harry. You've always been that to me."

He grinned. "Would it help if I said that I'm planning on talking to Professor Lupin about it?"

He could feel her smile through his robes. "Yes, it would. I'm glad to see you have some sense."

After several minutes of silence, Harry noticed that it didn't seem awkward at all. Normally, whenever he or Ron didn't talk while they were sitting together, it felt awkward like they each should say something to kill the boredom. There was nothing like that with Hermione. It was almost like she was a part of him, and he surely couldn't miss that.

How am I supposed to explain that when it barely makes sense to me? I'll probably come off sounding like an idiot. Quick, Potter, think!

"I'm glad you're my girlfriend, Hermione," he said instead.

Oh, that was brilliant!

She raised her head and kissed him tenderly for over a minute. The softness of her lips sent a surge of warmth throughout his body so intense he could swear that if a dementor stood right next to him, he'd barely feel a cool breeze.

To someone else, it might seem a waste to be kissing that long without it turning into snogging, but they would be dead wrong. To Harry, it conveyed all of the passion, protectiveness, vulnerability and understanding that only Hermione could give him. With a start, he realized that she was his dream girl. Maybe someday he'd tell her that.

"Goodnight, Harry," she whispered before making her way up the stairs to the girls' dormitory.

"Goodnight," he called back, hoping she heard him. Harry sat there for another ten minutes, contemplating his life since the summer began and the dementor on the train.

Eventually, Harry gave up his musings and went up to bed. With more than a little tossing and turning, he finally managed to get to sleep. The memory of Hermione's kiss definitely helped, and he made a mental note to tell her that first thing tomorrow.


	14. Chapter 14: The Grim and the Hippogriff

**Author's Note** _ **: I'm so sorry everyone that I took such a long time to post this new chapter. Truth be told, I got lost reading some fanfiction and got busy with work. When I looked back, two weeks had flown by, and I knew I had to get my ass to work. Thanks everyone for your patience and great reviews.**_

* * *

Harry rubbed his eyes as he rolled out of bed. After a quick shower, he slipped into his robes. Ron had finally gotten out of bed and was eyeing Harry with a suspicious look.

"So . . . you and Hermione, huh?" the ginger boy asked uncertainly.

"Yea."

"You really do like her, right?"

"I already said that on the train, Ron."

"I'm just making sure that you're not going for her just because she's the closest girl around. She's helped us out of some tight spots. She can be annoying and a menace, but I don't think she deserves that."

Harry gripped Ron's shoulder, proud of his friend looking out for Hermione. It was so unlike Ron that it created a sudden thought that made Harry's stomach lurch. "You're not jealous, are you?"

"What?" Ron burst into a short fit of laughter.

"Well, it could happen. Hermione's great. Any bloke could like her."

"Me and Hermione? Seriously? We'd kill each other."

Harry flushed. "She's brilliant. You two could get along better than you did, you know."

Ron shrugged. "She starts a lot of stuff too. She doesn't have to go mental about schoolwork and feelings and stuff."

"Well, maybe you both could try a little harder to get along this year."

"Yea." Ron's face fell. "Wouldn't want to ruin the little bit of time we hang out."

Realization dawned on Harry's face. "You think we're just going to abandon you because we're dating now? Ron, you're our best friend too. We're not going to just cut you out."

"But it won't be the same. Will it?"

Harry frowned. "Probably not exactly. I think it'll mostly be the same. You'll just have to see us do couple stuff."

"Like kissing?"

A light flush crept up Harry's neck as he thought of things that he was definitely sure he and Hermione weren't ready for. "Well yea, and holding hands. Everything else should be exactly the same. We're still three best friends."

Ron nodded, a grin spreading across his face. "Well, as long as you don't snog right in front of me, it should be ok."

"Well . . ." Harry gave him a cheeky grin.

"Oi!"

"Come on. Let's get to the Great Hall. Breakfast, remember?"

A wide grin split Ron's face. "Now you're talking."

* * *

Disaster. That was a perfect word to sum up the first class of the day: Divination.

It had taken Harry, Hermione and Ron nearly 15 minutes to climb the North Tower and find the strange silver ladder that led them into the even stranger classroom.

Professor Trelawney, a woman doing her best to look like a glittering insect, welcomed them to Divination with a misty voice that made Harry question her sanity. Did seeing the future make people insane?

Neville seemed to panic when she asked if his grandmother was well. His panic only increased when she implied that she might not be. What was the teacher playing at? Neville had issues as it was without having the added worry about his Gran. No small wonder that Neville broke his teacup that sat on his desk.

For the next ten minutes, they consulted their Divination books to read the tea leaves in each of their teacups. Ron and Harry were stumbling through theirs which were increasingly sounding like Harry was going to be in danger again this year.

 _No great surprise there_ , he thought.

Trelawney gave Harry's cup a final turn and gasped, followed by a scream. When she had finally calmed down, she looked at Harry in exaggerated horror.

"My dear," she said. "You have the Grim."

Harry, Dean Thomas and Lavender Brown gave her a bewildered look.

"A giant spectral dog that haunts churchyards. It is an omen of death." Her eyes widened.

"I should've seen a Grim my whole life then," he said, trying not to laugh.

"This is no time for foolish words, my dear. You must very careful. You are in grave danger."

"I'm always in danger, Professor. This isn't anything new. It's probably just Voldemort."

Everyone but Hermione gasped and Neville fell off his chair.

Trelawney clutched her chest as if she had been hit with a curse. "Oh, my dear. So horrible, truly horrible. Now more than ever you must realize that you must look into the future for guidance on your dangerous life. The Inner Eye is your true guide."

"Professor?"

"Hmm?" She turned with wide eyes which seemed to narrow slightly at the sight of Hermione.

"Could you give us an example of a prediction?" the bushy-haired witch asked.

"Certainly. They are to be found in your books if you would open them."

Harry thought that would be the end of it. Books were the final answer to Hermione.

"No, I meant one of yours."

Trewlaney clicked her tongue and shook her head. "My dear, you have continuously shown me today that you will forever have trouble perceiving the Inner Eye. It comes as it will and you cannot force it."

"She wasn't asking for a new prediction, Professor," Ron spoke up.

Neville asked, "Could you tell me what you saw about my Gran?"

"You all have misunderstood but do not fret. I will be your guide along this new journey into the future which you have not stepped foot before. Trust in that."

"So are you saying that you've never made a successful prediction before?" Harry asked before he could stop himself.

You could have heard a pin drop.

"W-what?" Trelawney stuttered.

Harry hesitated.

"Have you ever made a prediction that came true?" Hermione asked.

"Are both of you so blind to the Inner Eye that you cannot see that I am one of its principal channels? Oh, what a shame to see it. The-Boy-Who-Lived unable to see the Inner Eye. Tragic."

Harry stood. "The Boy-Who-Lived is a fantasy, just like this class. I'm leaving."

Hermione was on his heels, stopped and looked back at Ron. "Are you coming?"

"I'm, uh, gonna stay," the ginger boy mumbled. "Figured I'd make it up as I go."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione hurried to catch up to Harry.

"I can't believe anyone would actually believe that bollocks," Harry said.

"Language," she chastened half-heartedly. "I do agree though. The sad thing is that I think most of our year believed her. Poor Neville."

"We need to be a better friend to Neville."

"Well, I suppose you're right. We could be better with him. Maybe he'll have more confidence if he had closer friends."

"Yea. It'd be rubbish around here without you and Ron."

"So what are you going to do?" Hermione asked.

"If I want to see the future, I'm going to take a look at a better class."

"Really?" Hermione's eyes shone with pride. "Oh Harry. Of course I'll take it with you so you won't have to worry about doing the homework alone."

Harry gave her a grateful smile as he pushed open the doors to McGonagall's office.

"Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger," Professor McGonagall greeted. "What can I do for you during one of your scheduled class hours?"

"We want to take Arithmancy instead of Divination," Harry announced without preamble.

McGonagall was silent for a moment. "I take it that Professor Trelawney made a prediction of your death?"

Harry nodded.

"Well, I can assure you that she makes at least one a year and all of those students are still breathing. This doesn't get you out of any homework. If you die of course, you are excused."

With a small smile at her joke, he tentatively asked, "So is that a yes?"

"As long as you can keep up with the subject material, Potter. Otherwise, you must return to your Divination . . . studies." The last word seemed to leave a foul taste in McGonagall's mouth.

"We will, Professor," Hermione promised. She gave Harry a look that let him know that he would have to keep his word about doing better with keeping up with his homework. Or else.

"Yea," he agreed with a touch of nervousness. "You've got nothing to worry about."

"If anything, that makes me worry all the more, Mr. Potter. But you've wasted enough time here. I shall inform Professor Vector to expect both of you. Off you go."

"I'm really proud of you, Harry." Hermione kissed his cheek.

"Well, don't be too proud. I didn't do that well in maths when I was younger and I think Arithmancy takes a lot of maths to understand."

She squeezed his hand. "It does. I already have the textbook so we can share it until you get yours."

"Why would you already have the book if you didn't know that you'd need it?" he queried.

Hermione's cheeks turned pink. "I'd rather not say, Harry."

"Why not?"

"I'm embarrassed."

Harry frowned as they returned to the common room. No one was there so they both sat down on the love seat. The warmth of her body felt great but something still bothered Harry too much to keep quiet.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?" She met his eyes.

"Is this about what you mentioned when Tonks pulled the prank on you? There was a letter from the Ministry. I also offered to help you when I tried to make things right."

Her lip trembled. "Promise you won't think badly of me?"

"Well, unless you killed a man, I think I can safely promise that."

"I . . . McGonagall and I asked permission for me to take extra classes this year. To do that, I'd need to use a time turner."

Harry's face scrunched up. "A time turner?"

"It turns back time for a few hours."

In a flash, it all hit Harry. That was why she was so upset, why she had the textbooks and why she had been devastated that she hadn't gotten accepted.

"I'm really sorry I made that all worse," he said as he gave her a hug.

He rarely initiated a hug so her reply leaked surprise. "It's alright, Harry. I already forgave you. Thank you for not thinking worse of me."

"Why would I? Maybe they'll let you use it next year."

She shook her head. "The letter stated that it has been denied to all students for a long list of reasons and that no special circumstances even from an exceptional student would cause them to amend that. So even if I was a seventh year, they would deny me."

"We could sneak into the Ministry and borrow one," he suggested with a smirk.

"Harry!"

"What? I was just kidding . . . mostly."

"You're the reason students aren't allowed to have time turners."

"Me? I'm innocent. I'd only use it for small things . . . like playing jokes on Snape."

"I'm surprised you're not trying to make amends with him as well," she laughed.

He chuckled along with her, but the comment hurt a bit. It hurt because she was right. The same reasons that he had chosen to be civil to Draco in Flourish and Blotts could still be applied to a certain greasy-haired professor.

They stayed in the common room for a while before joining the others in the Great Hall.

"You missed some great predictions," Ron told them as they sat down.

"Oh?" Hermione had already retrieved her Arithmancy book and was leafing through it.

"Yea. Apparently, Lavender and Padma are both going to get bad news in about 3 months."

"What kind of bad news?" Harry asked.

"Well, Trelawney didn't say. It was just sort of implied that they would get bad news."

"Real specific," Harry commented with a roll of his eyes.

"Hey, don't sell her short. You should be watching out for the Grim too. My uncle saw one once and died in 24 hours."

"Well if I drop dead suddenly, you'll know that you were right, and I just couldn't admit I saw a mangy black dog that looks like every other mangy black dog."

"Mangy dog?" Ron's eyes bulged. "You-you've seen one?"

"Yea, I saw two when I was at the park near my house. Well, maybe it was the same dog."

"The point is," Hermione interjected. "Harry saw that dog weeks ago. Why didn't he die in 24 hours? Why has the Grim not come to kill him?"

Ron's ears turned pink as he stammered, "That's not . . . you . . . it's just the Grim is a bad omen, ok? You're just mad that you don't get Divination."

Hermione huffed. "And I suppose Harry should be mad that he doesn't 'get' Divination?"

"Well no. I reckon he's just mad because she insulted his stupid title."

Harry gripped the edge of the table and was very much aware that every goblet trembled slightly for a few seconds. He thanked Gruknot again for all the hours mastering his temper.

"You think I actually care about the title of being the Boy-Who-Lived?" he asked coldly.

"Well, I know it's not great most of the time but, you know, at least you're famous." Ron seemed oblivious to Harry's tone.

"Yea, Ron. Being beaten, starved, abused and having my parents murdered is so worth it when I get the title of the bloody Boy-Who-Lived."

Ron gulped. He realized that he had crossed a line and started muttering under his breath.

"Got something to say, Ron? Go on." Harry's eyes could melt lead.

"I didn't mean it like that," Ron said finally.

"So?"

"Um, yea?" Ron said uncertainly.

"It doesn't matter if you meant it like that. You don't get to shoot your mouth off and just think I'll sweep it under the rug like always."

"Look mate, I know you're really stressed right now, what with the Grim and all, but—"

"I don't give a damn about some stupid spectral dog or Trelawney's made-up prophecies!" Harry snapped. "All I care about is that my best mate doesn't know me at all if he thinks I like my fame in any way shape or form."

Ron stared down at his stew. Seconds ticked by and he said nothing.

Harry finally stood. "I'll see you both at Hagrid's."

"How can you be so thick?" Hermione snapped at Ron before grabbing her bag.

Ron was left to sit and think about all the things he shouldn't have said and should have said. Both lists were long.

The trip down to Hagrid's hut was done in silence. Harry was glad that Hermione was respecting his privacy. He still felt angry but the comfort of her hand in his was by no means small.

"Ooh, look here," Draco said with a sneer. "Looks like Scarhead and Mudblood finally are taking their little romance out into the open. I thought you had more self-respect than that, Potter."

"I thought I asked you to call me Harry."

Dead silence reigned in the group of students. Crabbe and Goyle kept glancing at Draco who looked like he'd been clubbed over the head.

"I don't have to be friendly with a Muggle lover," Draco snapped.

"Did you give any of what I said any thought?" Harry asked, hoping to keep his old school nemesis off-balance.

"What?"

"About blood status and how it doesn't really matter," Harry reminded him.

"I talked it over with my father and he pointed out how you were just trying to make a fool of me. Well, joke's on you, Potter. I'm no fool."

"Anyone who takes the word of someone else when everything else points the opposite way is a fool, Draco. Hermione here beats you in every subject. If her blood is so dirty, how does she keep doing that? If your blood is so pure, why aren't you at the top of your class? From what I understand, you're not even in the top of your year in Slytherin."

"Who told you that?" Draco spluttered.

"You just did." Harry shrugged. "It was a guess."

The blonde boy flushed red. "You won't win with these petty games, Potter. I'm a Malfoy. When I come of age, I'll be a lord and you'll be nothing."

Harry was so tempted to let Malfoy in on the secret that he had a lordship too. He realized that if Malfoy knew, he was just baiting him to tell everyone. If he didn't know, the look on Draco's face when he found out would be priceless.

Taking his cue, Hermione said as they walked by, "It's a pleasure to see you as always, Draco. I hope you enjoy our first lesson with Professor Hagrid."

The Malfoy heir's eyes bulged as angry words warred with each other on which wanted to come out first.

"Welcome everyone!" Hagrid's voice boomed. "Got a real treat for yeh. Everyone here? Good. Follow me for yer first lesson."

After a short squabble about the new Monster Books which seemed to be creatures of their own, they followed Hagrid to where he stood next to a magnificent hippogriff.

"Beau'iful, isn't he?" Hagrid patted the back of the hippogriff's head. "Name's Buckbeak."

Hagrid went into a short explanation about hippogriff's but Harry wasn't listening. He was shocked to find a strange spark of magic that seemed to be lit within the creature. When he realized that Hagrid was asking for who wanted to ride it first, Harry quickly volunteered.

"Harry, what about your tea leaves?" Lavender asked.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Then I guess Voldemort will get to thank Buckbeak for doing his dirty work." He winked at Hermione who held a worried expression.

Following instructions from Hagrid, Harry bowed until he was close enough to touch the magical creature. After petting him a little, Hagrid hoisted Harry on top of Buckbeak. In seconds the creature took to the skies and Harry felt the rush he hadn't felt since the first year he rode a broom. Buckbeak circled the paddock before returned to the ground

Malfoy strolled up to Buckbeak. "Of course this is easy. It has to be if Potter can do it."

Buckbeak bowed.

Draco simply sneered as he advanced. "Stupid beast."

With a squawk, Buckbeak lunged at Draco, talons extended.

Harry reached for his magic and wandlessly banished Draco out of the way. A second later his wand was in his hand so anyone watching would think he had done it using his wand. He silently congratulated himself and wondered if anyone had noticed.

Hagrid grabbed Buckbeak and was dragging him away as Harry reached Draco.

"Not so easy, is it?"

"P-Potter?" Draco's voice sounded unusually scared. "You saved me? Why?"

Harry helped him up. "Because you needed it."

The Slytherin's eyes narrowed. "This creates a debt between us. What do you want then? If you were Weasley I'd offer you gold."

Harry opened his mouth to tell Draco that he didn't want anything from him but suddenly a brilliant idea blossomed in his mind.

"Okay, you want to pay me back?"

"Yes. It's a matter of family honor. Not that you would know anything about that."

"Fine. You're no longer allowed to say Mudblood anymore. If you do, the debt is reinstated and I'll exact another favor from you. If I even hear from anyone that you've said it, the debt is reinstated."

"I'll never agree to that, Potter."

"You will if your family honor demands it."

Draco shook his head. "It has to be a one-time thing. It's not like you saving me from that beast is going to be an everyday thing."

Harry nodded. "Okay. I'll let you know."

"What?" Draco paled. He had obviously expected an immediate demand.

"Yea. When I need to recall this debt, I'll let you know. I'll make sure it's one you can't wiggle out of." Harry walked back to Hermione with a smirk.

"Do I really want to know why you look like that after talking to Malfoy?"

With a shrug, Harry said, "I think I'm growing on him."

"Yes, and I'm sure he's going to give Hagrid a hug for pulling Buckbeak back too." She leaned in close to whisper. "I know how you saved him by the way."

"Figures you'd notice."

"Well, I tend to watch my boyfriend closely."

Harry grinned and gave her a quick peck on the lips. "I hope you don't stop. I need you to keep me in line."

After the commotion died down, half of the class ended up being able to ride the other hippogriffs in the paddock. As they filtered out, Harry couldn't help but wonder how he should exact this strange honor debt from Draco. Would it be null and void after a while? More importantly, if there was something that he absolutely needed, could he trust Draco to follow through?

"What're you thinking about?" Hermione asked him.

He took her hand. "The future I guess."

"Anything good?"

"Well, yea. But there's always something bad to go with it."

"Sounds like every year for us," she responded.

"How was last year good for you?"

"It helped bring us closer together," she pointed out. "We might still be dancing around each other, both of us unsure of how the other felt."

"I guess you're right. Remind me to thank Tom Riddle for that when I see him next."

"You're impossible."

"That's part of my charm." He gave his best lopsided grin.

She shook her head but held a smile of her own.


	15. Chapter 15: Burying the Hatchet

Harry sighed as the Potions class drug on like a funeral march. While Malfoy had thankfully been subdued from his normal jeering due to the incident with Buckbeak, Snape still found ways to make the class as miserable as ever. Poor Neville struggled with Potions as it was, and patience was a word never associated with Snape.

Snape eyed Neville, his voice cold. "Longbottom, at the end of this lesson, you will feed a few drops of this potion to your toad. We'll see if that gives you the proper motivation to rise above your constant failure."

Neville looked like he might cry as he begged Hermione to help.

Harry cleared his throat. "Professor Snape, may I have a word in private with you?"

The bubbling of the cauldrons was the only sound that could be heard in the room. Looks of shock, puzzlement, and curiosity were scattered across the faces in the room.

"Why?" The Potions Master asked simply, his mask of indifference threatening to slip.

"I'd rather not say in front of everyone else, sir," Harry replied in a respectful tone.

Narrowing his dark eyes, Snape gestured toward the door and followed Harry out into the hallway. He closed the door behind him and cast a quick Silencing Charm.

"Well, Potter?"

Harry had already thought out what he would say for the past hour. He couldn't half-ass this and he knew that honesty would be the best way to do it. Snape may not listen or agree by the time he finished but at least Harry would know that he had tried.

He cleared his throat again. "Sir, this past summer has given me a lot of time to reflect on my behavior toward others which does include you," Harry said. "I have harbored resentment to your treatment of me and others. This has caused me not to give you the respect you deserve as a Professor. For that I am sorry."

A look of confusion covered Snape's face. "What are you playing at, Potter?"

Harry took a deep breath. "I know you hated my father. I'm not my father even if I do look like him. This feud that you had with him doesn't have to be between us too. I want to do better with my studies and that includes Potions. If you're willing to meet me halfway, I'd really appreciate it, sir. I want to make up for lost time and be better at Potions."

Shock covered Snape's face. "What happened this summer? If I didn't know any better, I'd think you an imposter. Harry Potter wouldn't apologize to me except on pain of death."

"It's still me, sir, just with a bigger picture that I'm seeing." Harry inwardly relaxed at the fact that Snape was at least not dismissing him outright. "I don't need any extra enemies with Voldemort after me. You are a teacher and despite our past, we don't have to be enemies."

"So what now? You want an apology from me as well, Potter?" Snape sneered.

"No, sir. I have made my apology and that's all I wanted to do for the first thing I wanted to talk to you."

"First? What was it that you wanted to speak of next? Class is still in session, and I don't need time being wasted by talk of wishes and feelings."

Harry gave him a small smile. "I want to talk about Neville."

"Longbottom? What could he have to do with anything you might want? He's abysmal at Potions."

"He struggles with it, yea, but it doesn't help that you constantly put him down. He gets enough of that from everyone else."

"So the great Harry Potter champions the witless wonder, eh?" Snape shook his head. "I don't coddle in my class. My grades and thoughts on students are fair."

"Are they?"

Snape's expression darkened. "Don't presume that you know anything, Potter."

"I can see that you show preference to your own House. Everyone at Hogwarts knows that you give them a lot more chances than you do from students of other Houses."

Harry also wanted to say something about how he had never seen Snape dock any points from a Slytherin but that kind of comment might ruin the whole conversation, no matter how true.

The Potions Professor snorted. "Even if that were true, what does it matter? If Longbottom were in Slytherin, which I would rather burn the Sorting Hat before that happens, he still wouldn't be able to brew a proper potion if his life depended on it."

"What if he had help outside of class?"

Snape raised an eyebrow.

"What if Hermione and I helped him do better in class? Would it be too much to ask if you could just try not to be too hard on him in class? He doesn't have much confidence, and that makes him make even more mistakes. Once he starts doing better in class, his potions will improve even more. You don't have to deal with him mucking up in class, and you get the praise for turning Neville Longbottom into a decent Potions student."

Silence stretched for a few moments. "And what do you get out of this?"

"I get better treatment for my friend and maybe it will help me out if I ever need it in the fight against Voldemort," Harry replied.

"That's not a very Gryffindor answer, Potter. Where's the need to do everything just because you know it's right?"

"I will be doing what's right, but that doesn't mean that there can't be something useful to me later on down the line."

The greasy-haired teacher looked at him like he had never seen him before. "That's very . . . Slytherin of you."

"Well, the Sorting Hat tried to put me there," Harry said casually but enjoying the look of shock on Snape's face.

"What?"

"Yea, but I'd met Draco, and we didn't get along so I wanted to go anywhere but Slytherin."

Snape nodded. "You used his first name."

Harry shrugged. "I'm getting rid of enemies, remember? Or at least, I'm making them less of an enemy."

There were several long seconds of silence before Snape finally said, "I will think on what you said, Potter. You're still arrogant as your father was, but it may well be that you could have inherited some of your mother's gift with Potions. I doubt it. It also would be nothing short of a miracle if you can make Longbottom anything but a failure."

Harry decided to test the waters. He smiled and joked, "Is that a challenge, sir?"

Snape shook his head. "Get back inside, Potter."

Harry returned to the class and stopped at his cauldron. The potion now looked a sickly green color and probably would get him a fail for the Shrinking Solution.

The Potions Master paused at Neville's cauldron, his face neutral. "Longbottom, leave a vial of your solution on my desk like the others."

Neville gulped and blurted, "What about Trevor?"

"Are you reminding me about the existence of your toad, Longbottom?" Snape asked before seating himself at his desk.

"N-no sir. Thank you, sir." Neville returned to stirring his cauldron and listening to Hermione's instructions.

Hermione, Ron and Neville kept glancing at Harry, obviously wondering what in Merlin's Beard he had said to Snape to get him to change his mind. The rest of the class did the same, but most lost interest after a few minutes.

Finally, the class ended and everyone headed for the Great Hall for lunch.

Ron finally spoke up. "Alright, mate. What the bloody hell happened with Snape?"

Ron's tact was as blunt as ever, but it made Harry grin. "I just asked him if we could bury the hatchet and if he could be nicer to Neville."

Both Ron and Hermione stopped in their tracks.

"What?" Harry said in mock surprise before snickering.

"He agreed?" Hermione asked incredulously as they started walking again.

"Well, not exactly. He said he'd think about it. Still, with how he treated Neville when he got back, it's a good start."

"So he's just going to ignore Neville's grades now?" Hermione asked.

"Lucky bloke," Ron muttered.

Harry shook his head as he took his girlfriend's hand. "I kind of volunteered both of us for helping him out outside of class."

Hermione beamed at him. "I could never turn down an offer for someone to learn something better. I'm so proud of you. When are you going to tell Neville?"

"What about me?" Neville asked as he caught up to them. "Is this about what you and Snape talked about? I was worried sick for Trevor. Thanks for whatever you said to him."

Harry rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly nervous. "Hey, Neville. If you don't mind, Hermione and I were going to be helping to tutor you in Potions. Well, Hermione will be basically tutoring both of us at the start but we'll catch up."

Neville's face lit up in the blink of an eye but fell just as quickly. "Don't bother. I'm hopeless."

Harry grabbed Neville's arm. "Don't ever think that about yourself, Neville. I still think you're worth twelve of Malfoy. You can be as great a wizard as you want to be. I've been slacking on my studies for two years now. Want to help me step up my game?"

Neville gave him a hopeful smile. "That'd be great, Harry. I'll try my best."

Ron said nothing as they sat to eat, but Harry couldn't help but notice that he kept sending angry looks at Neville sporadically. What could Ron have against Neville? Harry wanted to ask Ron about it but didn't want to look stupid in case he was imagining it. It had been bad enough when Ron had laughed at the idea of being jealous of Harry dating Hermione.

"Harry?" Hermione's broke through his reverie. "What's wrong?"

Harry shrugged and squeezed her hand with a genuine smile. "Nothing."


	16. Chapter 16: The Boggart

As the class filed in after Professor Lupin into the staffroom, Harry was surprised to find Snape there, sitting in an armchair. Harry had never been in the staffroom before, and it almost seemed alien to find Snape outside the dungeons or the Great Hall.

Lupin was about to close the door when Snape stood suddenly. "Leave it open, Lupin. I'd rather not see this."

This seemed an odd thing to say to another Professor. Still, after the look of pure loathing that Snape had given Lupin during the Opening Feast, there was probably a bad past between them that couldn't be overcome in a day.

At the doorway, Snape paused and turned back. Harry could see him sneer and look at Neville for a moment. The Potions Master opened his mouth to say something, but only then noticed that Harry was standing next to Neville. With great effort, Snape closed his mouth and strode out of the room, his robes billowing behind him.

Harry let out a sigh of relief. Maybe things weren't so hopeless with Snape and Neville after all. The fact that he hadn't said anything just now despite the fact that it wasn't in Potions spoke volumes about it.

Lupin beckoned the class to the other side of the room where an old wardrobe stood where the teachers kept their spare robes. The Defense Professor stood next to it, and the wardrobe moved on its own, striking the wall with a loud bang that had several students stepping back.

"Nothing to worry about," Professor Lupin said in a gentle tone. "There's a boggart in there."

"What's a boggart?" Harry whispered to Hermione before she shushed him.

After Lupin gave a short explanation about the locations where boggarts are normally found, he said, "So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what _is_ a boggart?"

Unsurprisingly, Hermione's hand shot up, alone and unchallenged.

"It's a shape-shifter," she answered quickly. "It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most."

"Couldn't have put it better myself. Now, since we don't know what you all fear, we won't know what form it will take until you stand in front of it. Does anyone know what would happen if there were to be more than one person in front of it?"

Harry didn't hesitate to raise his hand at the same time as Hermione, although his was less enthusiastic to his girlfriend's. He couldn't suppress a smile at seeing her bobbing up and down.

"Yes, Harry?"

"It wouldn't really know which shape to take since there would be two different fears."

"Exactly." Lupin smiled. "The result of that is something that looks more comical than scary which defeats the boggart before it can begin."

Lupin then explained the Riddikulus Charm which would cause the boggart to change into something amusing that the caster had in their mind. After a few tries, everyone could easily say the incantation without their wands.

"Now then, who would like to go first?"

On a whim, Harry stepped back and shoved Neville forward. He wondered if he had just made a big mistake when Neville just stood there, not even looking back to glare at Harry for putting him on the spot.

"What frightens you most, Neville?" Lupin asked.

Neville gulped and his head dropped to the floor, his lips moving soundlessly.

Lupin shook his head. "I can't hear you, Neville."

"P-Professor Snape," the boy said quickly which caused over half the students to laugh.

"Okay. Can you think of something that you think will be funny, just in general?"

Neville thought for a moment and nodded. "Tally, my Gram's house elf does a little dance when she's trying to cheer me up, and it's always funny."

Lupin seemed surprised by this answer but recovered quickly. "Then when the boggart comes out looking like Professor Snape, imagine him doing that dance and speak the incantation."

With a short nod, Neville raised his wand at the wardrobe.

The Defense Professor waved his hand, and the wardrobe creaked open. Out stepped a perfect doppelgänger of Severus Snape, complete in his trademark greasy hair and a permanent scowl.

"Longbottom!" Not-Severus snapped. "What do you think you're doing? You couldn't cast a spell properly if I gave you a full day to prepare."

Harry shouted, "You got this, Nev!"

Neville jumped at the shout but stood up straighter. "Riddikulus!"

Not-Snape put both fists on his hips and began dancing a clumsy jig. Half a second later, his hands started waving above his head. Everyone roared with laughter. Harry thought it was the funniest thing he had ever seen.

"Fantastic, Neville!" Lupin praised as he waved someone else forward. "Remember everyone, just think of something funny, and you'll do as great as Neville."

As Neville stepped back next to Harry, he gave the green-eyed boy a proud grin.

"Knew you could do it, Nev." Harry wasn't sure why he was shortening the name, but it seemed like the right thing to do. It wasn't like he could shorten Ron's name any further.

"You didn't have to push me."

"Sure I did. How else were you going to face your fear?"

"I guess. I hope yours isn't what I think it'll be."

"Voldemort?" Harry guessed.

Neville shuddered and nodded.

Harry shrugged. "I've done it before. Do boggarts change, or are they always the same?"

"Excellent question, Harry," Lupin put in. "Everyone fears some things their whole life unless they learn to grow accustomed to them. New fears may replace them so you may be seeing something in a boggart you weren't expecting."

 _Not likely,_ Harry thought. _What's scarier than facing the most powerful Dark Wizard of all time?_

Hermione stepped forward. The boggart blurred and shifted before finally settling on Professor McGonagall. Hermione's eyes went wide as her wand hand trembled with fear.

Not-McGonagall's face twisted up in anger. "Ms. Granger, you have always been a disappointment to me, despite my good attempt to cover it up. You are unworthy to be a witch. I'm afraid it's time to Obliviate you and return you to where you belong: the Muggle world.

Harry felt like someone had kicked him in the gut. His prank, long-forgotten already, was so very close to her darkest fear that it made him sick. The girl he fancied—maybe even loved—had been taunted by the worst fear in the depths of her heart. And it had been his idea.

 _What kind of monster am I?_ he wondered.

Hermione's eyes hardened as she shouted, "Riddikulus!"

Not-McGonagall's clothing was replaced by a huge pink ball gown with more frills than anything else. A bright blue tiara that sparkled lit her head and her face was covered with a ghastly amount of makeup. In her hand was a plastic wand with a star shape at the end that you might find in a toy store.

Harry clapped as the class burst into laughter again. He stepped forward and brushed her hand as they passed.

"That was brilliant," he said which brought a bright smile to her face.

Not-McGonagall blurred and morphed before turning into the form of a Dementor. Before anyone could react, it pulled its hood back to reveal a face that was both familiar and alien.

 _No_ , Harry thought rapidly and repeatedly.

Staring back at him was himself. Older and with an aura of malevolence that even Voldemort had never given him. Green eyes that had once lit with laughter were now darkened by fury. His face twisted into a sneer that would make Snape proud.

"Don't look so surprised," Not-Harry spoke. "You know this is how you'll end up. You've felt the power and know what it will do. No one can stand in your way. You will resist, but you'll fail. Soon it will be your name to be so feared that no one will dare utter your name."

Harry heard his wand clatter to the floor and someone was shouting his name from far away. He stared at his doppelgänger and knew that it was true. His wandless power was strong and would only continue to grow.

"Tom Riddle is a pale shadow to the Dark Lord you will be," Not-Harry said.

Lupin stepped in front of Harry and the boggart morphed into a shimmering white orb before the professor said, "Riddikulus." The orb turned into a balloon which bounced this way and that before being banished back to the wardrobe.

"Well, that's enough for today. Everyone, collect your books and be off to your next class."

Harry felt Hermione's hand slip into his. "Come on, Harry. Let's get you out of here."

Lupin held up a hand to stop them. "Harry, that wasn't you and it wasn't a prediction. It's just what you fear. Don't let your fear control you."

"I . . . I thought it would be Voldemort."

Expecting him to flinch, Lupin just nodded. "It would seem that you simply fear that you will turn Dark one day. If nothing else, keep reminding yourself that you mustn't slip from the Light. You aren't a Dark Wizard, Harry. You're not Voldemort."

A sigh of relief left Harry but the dread held onto his heart. He thanked Lupin and walked hand-in-hand with Hermione out of the classroom.

"You alright?" Ron asked.

"Yea, Harry, you look really um, peaky," Neville put in, though the last word was mumbled.

"It's not real, Harry." She stopped him and held his face in her hands.

He stared into her beautiful chocolate eyes and rasped, "I broke you. Your worst fear was almost exactly like what I did to you. How did you ever forgive me? How can you continue to like me or even want to talk to me after that?"

Hermione sighed and dropped her hands to her sides. "I was still upset all that week about it, Harry, but my feelings for you helped me forgive you. You apologized and wanted to make it right. You didn't know what you were doing, not really. You know better now."

A lump had formed in his throat and he tried to swallow it down to no avail. "I don't deserve you."

She leaned forward and brushed her lips on his. "I'm not perfect either, Harry. Poking fun at my worst fear doesn't make you Voldemort though."

Ron and Neville shuddered.

"But it could be a start to that," Harry said quickly.

"Harry James Potter, you stop this nonsense right now," Hermione snapped before her voice became gentle. "You don't have a cruel bone in your body. You did something cruel and made it right afterwards. Does that sound like a Dark Lord to you?"

He shrugged. "I guess not."

"Then don't dwell on this." She slipped her hand back into his. "But if it does keep bothering you, talk to me about it. We're in this together. Alright?"

"Thanks," Harry said in a voice filled with more emotion than he could put into words.

"Bloody hell, at least her nagging does some good."

Harry rolled his eyes. Leave it to Ron to ruin the moment. He could tell Hermione was about to snap back so he squeezed her hand hard.

In a studding move, Neville punched Ron in the arm. "Don't say that about her, Ron. She helps out tons of people with their homework who ask her. The fact that she makes it a point to nag you about it should show you that she's helping you anyway even if you're too proud to ask."

Harry, Ron and Hermione stood still as stone. This was not the Neville Longbottom from last year.

 _Maybe I should shove him at a boggart more often_ , Harry thought.

Neville blushed, mumbled something and quickly ambled away.

"Wow," Hermione said.

"Where did that come from?" Ron rubbed his shoulder, glaring at Neville's back.

"I think he's right, Ron."

Ron's face darkened further. "Yea, you would. Just agree with your new best friend, why don't ya?"

Harry frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know what I mean. I say one bad thing about your fame, and you're already trying to replace me."

"Ron, you're still my best mate," Harry assured him "That's not gonna change even if you're being a prat right now."

"Yea, that's me. Harry Potter's stupid friend. Don't think that I don't see what's going on. You don't like me around if I'm not a bookworm or worshiping the ground you walk on. That might be good enough for Neville, but I'm not just gonna change because you decided to get a girlfriend."

"Why the hell are you acting like this, Ron?" Harry snapped, his anger rising. "I get that you have older brothers to compete with at home, but this is us. You, me and Hermione have faced things grown wizards haven't. Neville isn't replacing you, Ron. We're allowed to have more than just two friends."

"If I'm such a good friend, why are you two keeping secrets from me?"

"What are you on about now?" Harry asked although a sinking feeling in his stomach was evidence enough of his guilt. He had been planning on telling Ron everything but stuff kept coming up.

"I know there had to be something that happened this summer, but all you talk about is staying with the Tonks. I know you went to Gringotts. My brother, Bill, came back from Egypt and saw you there for two weeks. You probably went there longer than that. You didn't tell me anything about that."

"Ron, I was going to tell you every—" Harrys started.

The ginger boy held up a hand. "Save it. I know you're just trying not to feel guilty. Already replaced me then? Neville probably knows all about it, eh? Well, I'll just go find some new friends myself. Maybe they'll want me around."

"Ron!" Harry shouted which made the other wizard paused. "Think about what you're doing. Is all this so bad that you're going to walk away from our friendship? You were my first friend, Ron."

Ron turned back to look at him, hesitating. After a few long moments, his eyes hardened.

"I'm not the one who messed all this up, Harry. You are."

"Look Ron, I'm sorry for not telling you. We can go out to the Lake, and I'll tell you everything now."

"I don't really care what it is," Ron said. "I'm just tired of being the last to be told. I'm second best everywhere else. I'm not gonna be second best with my friends. See ya around."

He walked off and Harry wanted nothing more than to grab him with his magic and shake some sense into him. What the hell was he thinking? Ron was dense and quick to anger, but this seemed over the top for him.

"That could have gone better," Hermione said at last.

"That's the understatement of the year."

"He'll come around," she said as they began walking again.

"I hope so." He glanced at her. "Do you think I should not be so friendly to Neville?"

Hermione glared at him. "Neville doesn't deserve to be some chess piece in some petty game about Ron's feelings. Ron can apologize for his tantrum, and we can go back to normal. Neville is our friend, and you said we should be better friends to him. How is suddenly ignoring him being a better friend?"

His face flushed. "You're right. I'm sorry. Feelings still aren't my thing, and I'm not sure how to go around them."

"That's why you have me." She gave him a peck on the cheek. "Come on, let's get back to the Common Room. We can start on our homework."

Harry inwardly groaned but knew she was right. Maybe the homework would take his mind out of the bizarre events of today.


	17. Chapter 17: The Prisoner of Azkaban

_**Author's Note** : Thank you all so much for your constructive feedback! Over 200 reviews. I can't believe it. Please keep it up._

* * *

Unfortunately, the situation with Ron didn't get any better over the next month. Whenever he would see either of them, he would either walk by without a word or just glare at them if they had to be in the same room.

"This is getting out of hand," Harry commented on Halloween morning during breakfast.

"I know." Hermione glanced down the Gryffindor table where Ron sat chatting with Lee Jordan about Quidditch.

"Well, the visit to Hogsmeade is today. Should we invite him along?"

Hermione nodded. "He might still say no but at least we tried. I hate seeing us all like this."

"It's probably my fault," Neville said. "You guys have been hanging around me a lot, and Ron probably feels left out."

"That's his problem," Harry replied. "He could have been hanging out with us, doing homework, playing exploding snap and stuff. It's not our fault he wants to throw a pity party for himself."

Neville nodded. "Well, if you're sure."

Harry stood and said. "I am."

Hermione gave him a questioning look before understanding dawned on her face. "Want me to come with you?"

"No. He's mad at me, not you guys." Harry walked purposefully over to where Ron was seated. There were no spots so he simply stood and waited for Ron to notice he was there.

When he finally did, Ron's glare was back in full force. "What do you want?"

"I wanted to know if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade with us."

"Us?" Ron glanced down the table. "You mean Hermione and Neville."

"Well, yeah."

"No, thanks." Ron turned back to Lee who was looking like he'd like to be anywhere but here.

"Come off it, Ron. Why are you acting like a prat? I'm trying here and have been trying. Our friendship isn't so broken that we can't bounce back from this."

"I want you to apologize," Ron said suddenly.

Harry was taken aback. "For what?"

"For keeping secrets and trying to shove me out. I don't know what stunt you're pulling by trying to make friends with me again, but I'll work with it."

Clenching his fists, Harry gritted his teeth. "Ron, I already apologized for keeping things from you. I didn't shove you out. The only reason we haven't hung out recently is because you won't even stay in the same room as me. I don't owe you a damn thing."

"I think we should go," Lee said to Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas who were seated across from him.

"No, go ahead and stay." Ron crossed his arms over his chest. "I want you guys to see the real Harry Potter. This is how he treats his supposed best mate."

A thousand different ways to beat Ron to a pulp flashed in Harry's mind, and he just barely managed not to implement even one of them. He felt the rage starting to boil in his veins, and the power in his core just begging to be used. Hermione may be on to something with Ron being pigheaded about stupid things. Usually, it wasn't directed at him, so Harry had never truly encountered it before.

"Fine, Ron. You want to play it like that. Go ahead. If you ever want to stop acting like an ass, you know where to find me." Harry stomped back to his seat and plopped down onto the bench.

"That looked like it went well," Hermione commented.

"About as well as I expected," Harry replied. "Still, I kinda had hoped for better."

"Well, we shouldn't let it spoil our time in Hogsmeade." Hermione gave him a comforting smile and squeezed his hand.

Harry nodded. "You're coming too, right Neville?"

Neville, despite having been around them for a month now, still managed to look genuinely shocked. "Really?"

"Yea, why not?"

"Um, Harry most couple just want to hang around Hogsmeade by themselves to uh . . ." He glanced at Hermione and blushed. "Be by themselves."

Harry looked from Hermione to Neville. "What do you mean?"

"Honestly, Harry," Hermione said with a touch of exasperation. "He means he doesn't want to hang around if we want to be alone and snog."

Now it was Harry's turn to blush. "Now wait, Nev. We probably will want to have some time to ourselves, but that doesn't mean we can't all three hang out for a couple hours. I mean, we're there all day until the carriages come back to the castle."

Neville let out a sigh of relief. "That sounds brilliant, Harry."

* * *

An hour later, they were stepping out of the carriages. The weather was a bit chilly with a few inches of snow already on the ground. Harry was very grateful that Andromeda had packed him a new coat that held back the bite of the wind.

"Where should we go first?"

"Honeydukes?" Neville suggested.

"Then Scrivenshaft's," Hermione put in. "I need more quills."

"Sounds great," Harry said.

They spent the next two hours wandering from shop to shop. Aside from the quills and sweets, Harry ended up buying a broom cleaning kit. He was very glad that Hermione had suggested that he bring his book bag for carrying things. Thankfully, she had done the same so that he didn't have to carry the two books she purchased which he was sure were 2 kilos each.

"Want to go to the Shrieking Shack?" Hermione suggested.

"R-really?" Neville scanned the view up the hill where the forlorn house stood. It looked as if it hadn't been used in over a decade, and no one seemed to have done any repairs since.

"Looks haunted," Harry said with a light chuckle.

"Supposed to be the most haunted house in Scotland," Neville informed him.

"Well, judging from the lack of real ghosts in most supposedly haunted places, I'd think that's just something to wind people up," Hermione said. "I don't mind visiting or just going closer."

"Alright." Harry took Hermione's hand as they strolled up toward the decrepit house. He paused at the flimsy fence that had a sign labeled: KEEP OUT!

With a little effort, Harry tucked under one wire of the fence and pulled Hermione with him. He gave Neville a pointed look before the timid boy followed them. It took less than five minutes to reach the door of the shack which bounced open with the wind.

"We shouldn't be here," Neville whined. "It doesn't feel right."

"Don't be scared, Nev." Harry's heart was thudding in his chest out of fear as well, but he wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing.

"Harry, are we really going inside?" Hermione asked.

"I am, Mione. You guys can stay here if you want. I just want to see what's inside. It's probably empty but once I see it, we can leave and never have to come back. Ok?"

Her lips pressed together in a fine line. "Fine. We'll go with you. It'll take less time to get you out of the house. I agree with Neville. This doesn't feel right."

"Where's your Gryffindor courage?" Harry said as he opened the door dramatically.

They made their way through the lower level and found mostly dusty furniture. One table and chair looked recently used and a few bits of food were left to one side. Harry's fear began to mount as he wondered if there actually was someone here. A ghost wouldn't need food, but a human would.

Hermione saw the crust of bread and froze. Her eyes locked with Harry and she said, "We need to get out of here, Harry. Now."

"Yea," he agreed. He moved toward the hallway and felt every hair on his head stand on end. A mangy dog with matted black fur stood between them and the front door. It looked exactly like the one who had been at the park by his house.

"Harry, it's the Grim," Neville whispered. "You've got to believe Trelawney now."

Hermione gave Neville a sideways sour look.

Before anyone could move toward the mutt, it transformed into a man with matted shoulder length hair as black as the dog's had been. Hermione's gasp behind him and Neville muttering how they should have known better could barely be heard by Harry as he focused solely on the man before him.

Harry had instantly recognized him from the wanted posters that had been scattered around Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. Sunken dark eyes stood out from pasty flesh that made the dark-haired man seem barely more than a skeleton. In his heart of hearts, Harry believed that if there ever was a Grim, this man would be it.

"Sirius Black," Harry said in little more than a whisper.

"Harry Potter," the escaped prisoner of Azkaban returned.

"Are you here to kill me?" Harry gathered his magic, prepared for whatever Black might through at him. The Dark Wizard most likely had managed to get his hands or paws on a wand.

Black grinned, yellow teeth showing. "I'd never kill my best mate's son. I actually was squatting here. Pity that I'll have to find a new spot."

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "If you're not here to kill Harry, why are you here?"

The convict pointed to his pocket as if asking for permission. After seeing Harry nod, he reached in and pulled out the Daily Prophet article with Ron's family on the front cover. They had won the raffle and taken a much-needed vacation in Egypt. The Prophet had taken a picture with all of them waving at the camera, a large pyramid in the background.

"You're here . . . for Ron?" Hermione asked slowly.

Black rolled his eyes. "For the rat. On his shoulder. See?"

"Scabbers?" Neville spoke up. "You _are_ mental."

Black sighed. "Perhaps, but that rat will clear my name."

"How?" Harry wanted nothing more than to blast Black into next week, but he needed answers. If the Dementors took him, Black wouldn't be able to live, let alone talk.

"He's an Animagus like me. His name is Peter Pettigrew." The name sounded like the foulest curse the wizard could think of.

"Pettigrew was murdered—by you," Harry reminded him. Andromeda had filled him in on all of the dealings with Sirius Black. He truly wondered if the man was mad before he went in or had just lost it after being around the Dementors for so long.

"That's what the Ministry would like everyone to believe." Black dropped the paper to the ground. "Truth is, he was the one who was a Death Eater. Not me. Not Remus like we thought. It was timid, pudgy Peter."

Harry glanced at Neville. Peter Pettigrew didn't sound much different from Neville. Could Neville grow up to betray him one day?

"So you're admitting that you never sold out my parents to Voldemort?" Harry asked, watching for a reaction. Like Professor Lupin, Sirius Black didn't even flinch.

"I would have died first." He rubbed his chest and winced. "Some days I feel like I already have. It's been 12 years of hell, and I'm still not free. It would have at least been nice to have had a trial even if they had got it all bollixed up."

"All we have for all this is your word," Hermione pointed out. She hadn't raised her wand, but she held a tight grip on it at her side.

Suddenly, Black's words caught up to Harry. "Wait a second. You know Remus Lupin, our Defense Professor?"

A light flickered in Black's eyes that made him look five years younger. "Remus is teaching Defense? Good for him. I don't know how he talked Dumbledore into it but good on him."

"He's the best Professor we've ever had," Neville said.

"Really? It's been that bad here?"

"Almost got killed by Voldemort possessing our first Defense Professor my first year and had to avoid getting Obliviated from Professor Lockhart last year before I had to fight a basilisk."

"A basilisk?!" Black and Neville shouted in unison.

"Yea, in the Chamber of Secrets," Harry confirmed.

Something akin to awe crossed over Black's face. "You truly are your father's son. James would have been so proud of you, Harry."

"So if you are telling the truth, why not just go to Dumbledore?" Hermione asked.

Black shrugged. "I don't know if he's on my side or ever really was. If anyone could have gotten me out of Azkaban, it would have been him. But I never even got a visit from him."

"So what now?" Harry asked. "We get Scabbers for you, and you just kill him?"

The face that had looked so dejected a moment ago lit up with a twisted pleasure. "Only after I've made him admit that he framed me."

"And if he won't?"

"I have ways of loosening his tongue," Black replied in a voice that sent a shiver up Harry's spine. "Peter always was a bit of a coward. I never understood how he got into Gryffindor."

Hermione stepped up next to Harry. "If you were friends with Professor Lupin, he could be the one to bring you in."

"I'm not going to be captured or brought in until Pettigrew exonerates me. I don't fancy a Dementor's Kiss."

Harry's mouth dropped open. "A w-what?"

Black chuckled as Hermione explained, "It's when a Dementor sucks out someone's soul. They have to get really close to someone's mouth to do it, and it's called a Dementor's Kiss."

"Oh." Harry rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish expression. He thought long and hard about the situation. There were so many things that he didn't know, and if Black was really just a brilliant liar, he would curse Harry as soon as his back was turned.

"I'm not going to tell anyone we saw you, but I'm not just going to bring Scabbers to you either."

"Harry!" Hermione practically shouted. "We can't trust him."

"I don't," Harry replied and watched a morose look retake Black's face. "But that doesn't mean that he's lying about all of it. We need proof. He didn't try to attack us when our backs were turned or when he turned back into a wizard. That's something."

"I see you've got your mom's brains," Black said.

Harry was so tempted to sit down with the man and talk for hours until he got every last story about what his parents had really been like. With great effort, he pushed the thought away. Now was not the time to be emotional about it. If he made the wrong move, he, Hermione and Neville would wind up dead.

 _Not on my watch_ , he promised himself.

"If you're not telling anyone about me and not bringing me the rat, what are you going to do?" Black enquired.

"I meant I'm not going to tell Dumbledore or others who are probably not on your side like Snape."

"Snape's here?" Black's eyes bulged. "Please don't tell me he's teaching Potions."

Harry gave him a sympathetic look and laughed when Black groaned loudly as if the mere thought of Snape holding a teaching position physically pained him. "I'm going to talk to Professor Lupin. If I think he might not turn you in without at least hearing you out, I'll bring him here."

"When?"

"Well, we can't visit except during Hogsmeade so . . ."

"You can get here through the Whomping Willow," Black interrupted.

"Are you serious?" It made sense to Harry. Why have a dangerous tree like that on the grounds if it didn't have a hidden purpose?

"Yes. I am Sirius, and I am serious." He flashed a wide grin which made Harry see the faint echo of the man he had once been.

It took Harry a second to catch the joke before he groaned. "Why do I get the feeling that you have told that joke a thousand times before?"

"Maybe. You'll never know." Black let out another sigh. "So when?"

"Well, if you're hiding out here, then anytime should be good," Harry pointed out. "I'll try to visit again same time next week. If I don't show, that means that Lupin didn't believe you could be trusted enough to even hear out."

"Send me an owl either way. It'll find me."

"You sure about this, Harry?" Neville asked, never taking his eyes off of Black.

"Yes," Harry said with conviction. "It's the best choice to make here."

"Well, you best be off then," Black said as he gestured to the door.

Harry let the others go by but remained facing Black. "I know you're telling the truth or at least the truth as you know it."

"It is the truth. I'm innocent."

"I'm sure you'll understand that I can't trust you."

"I do."

"Then it'll be easy to forgive me." Without waiting for a reply, Harry hurled a wandless Stupify at Black which sent the man slamming into the wall before crumpling to the floor.

"Wow, Harry," Neville commented from the front door. "I didn't even see you reach for your wand."

Harry said nothing for a few moments as they descended the hill. "Neville, you're not going to tell anyone about him, are you?"

Neville shook his head. "I don't really know what to do here so I'll just follow your lead. You always know what to do, Harry. If you say this is the best thing then it's the best thing."

Harry felt a pang in his chest that Ron wasn't here. That was something that he might have said and it just reminded Harry all over again that he was thankful to have Hermione always at his side even if she didn't always agree with him.

"Hermione?"

The bushy-haired witch let out an elongated sigh. "I really think we should tell Dumbledore at least. I understand why you can't trust him with stuff from your past, but this is different."

"Based on my experience, Dumbledore is a master manipulator. If he really thought that Sirius Black was innocent, he would have forced them to let him go or at least give him a fair trial."

"We don't know for sure that he never got a trial," Hermione said.

"I can find out from my Gran," Neville said. "She's on the Wizengamot."

"Brilliant. So let's do a little digging, and I'll talk to Professor Lupin." Harry looked at Hermione for any further objections.

"Just be careful, Harry," she said after a moment. "I just want to make sure we aren't ignoring the signs that we're letting a lunatic fool us into letting our guard down. If he's after more than just you for revenge, we could be playing right into his plans."

Harry nodded. "That's why I wanted this to be something we all do together. It's not just about me. It's all of us and maybe all of Hogwarts. I don't know."

Neville stood a little taller as they made their way back into Hogsmeade. "We're with you, Harry. Right, Hermione?"

She gave a small smile and her voice only had a touch of worry. "Of course."

Harry reached out and gripped Neville's arm to stop him from entering Hogsmeade. They were well out of earshot of anyone in the village, and this was definitely not something he wanted anyone else to hear.

Hermione paused as well, looking to Harry.

"Well, since we're all in this together, Neville, I've got something to tell you," Harry said. "What do you know about wandless magic?"


	18. Chapter 18: A Stormy Defeat

**_Author's Note:_** _Sorry this one is short, guys. I've been working a lot lately, and I've been just wiped out when I get home. Thanks for the insightful and encouraging reviews everyone!_

* * *

Harry clenched and relaxed his fist several times as he and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team waited for the time to enter the Quidditch Pitch. It was raining sheets and the wind was so strong that it was causing the students who were dashing to the stands to stagger sideways. Harry couldn't help but wonder if he might fall off his broom again.

As the rain splattered all over his glasses, Harry thought, _How am I supposed to see?_

The Quaffle was released, and the rush of the game began. Gusts of wind blew every flyer every which way, making everyone look as uncoordinated as a Muggle on a broom.

Harry tried to keep track of time, but it was next to impossible since he couldn't see anyone clearly. He nearly got taken out by a Bludger, and after the second near miss with another flyer, Harry resigned himself to flying further up. He still couldn't see, but at least he might be a little safer.

Finally, Wood called a timeout, and the team rushed to the safety of a giant conjured umbrella. As he dried off his glasses, Wood told him what the score was. The Gryffindors were up by 50 points, but unless they wanted to play into the night, Harry would have to catch the Snitch.

"I can't see," Harry told them, pointing at his glasses. "No way am I catching the Snitch."

Hermione hurried out of the rain and snatched Harry's glasses off his face.

"Hey!"

"I've got an idea, Harry. Trust me." She pointed her wand at his glasses. "Impervious."

As she placed the glasses back on his head, he found that nothing had changed. They still looked the same to him.

"They'll repel water now," she explained.

Harry stared at her for a moment before kissing her hard. When they broke apart, he said, "Thanks, Mione. You're the best girlfriend in the world."

Hermione blushed. "Just get the Snitch quickly. It feels like it's getting colder and I want to be near a fire."

Taking back to the skies, Harry was able to see perfectly. Dodging a Bludger and the Hufflepuff Seeker, Cedric Diggory, Harry scanned the skies for the Snitch. After a few long minutes of nothing, Harry climbed higher in an attempt to see the field better. Seconds stretched into minutes without any sign of the golden orb.

He glanced back behind him as lightning flashed like a sizzling hand reaching out. It illuminated the entire field, and Harry caught sight of a familiar shaggy dog standing at the edge of the Quidditch Pitch.

 _Why is Sirius Black here?_ Harry thought with a spike of irritation. _Doesn't he know that he could get caught?_

Shrugging it off, Harry turned back to the rest of the field, peering into the stormy night for any sight of the Snitch. Suddenly he caught sight of the Snitch at the same time as Diggory. Harry urged his Nimbus to go faster, his arm outstretched to snatch it as soon as possible. He was so focused on the Snitch that it took him a few seconds to realize that the roar of the thunder sounded muffled and the all-too-familiar cold swept over him, reaching for his soul with its icy touch.

 _Dementors_ , he thought as he caught sight of a hundred of them floating just below him.

The woman's voice from the train screamed in his head as he felt himself tumble from his broom. As the cold air whipped around him, the voice became clearer.

 _"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"_

 _"Stand aside, you silly girl . . . stand aside, now . . ."_

Harry realized with a start that that voice was unmistakable. It was Voldemort.

 _"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead—"_

The woman's voice was familiar, but Harry didn't have any time to dwell on it. He needed to get to her. Voldemort would kill her.

 _"Not Harry! Please . . . have mercy . . . have mercy . . ."_

Voldemort's cold and insane laugh echoed in Harry's mind.

Harry could see the ground rushing up at him. He reached for his magic and thought of landing on a pile of pillows. He pushed as much magic as he could into the thought, but the cold mist was overtaking his mind. There were no more happy thoughts, only the woman screaming his name in terror and a flash of green light.

He felt himself slowing down just before the impact of something unyielding and knew no more.

* * *

Harry's dreams were filled with the woman's screams and Voldemort's laugh. As they faded away, he gradually felt himself waking up. His eyes drifted open, and he took in the fact that he was in the Hospital Wing. Again.

"Hello, Harry. How are you feeling?"

The boy sat up. "I've been better, Headmaster."

"That's a relief. If you hadn't slowed yourself some, my Slowing Charm wouldn't have been cast in time. You did after all fall over a hundred feet." A dark look crossed Dumbledore's face for an instant before disappearing. "The dementors should never have neared the grounds. I sent them away straight away."

"Why did they come?" He instantly thought of Sirius. Why had he risked being at the game?

"All of the excitement of the game was too big a temptation for them," Dumbledore replied. "They are growing increasingly hungry, and the cheering of the students was their idea of a meal on a silver platter."

"What did you do?"

"I cast what is known as the Patronus Charm to push them away."

"Is it a curse or a shield?"

"A shield," Dumbledore said with a small smile. "It is made using your happiest memory and allowing the dementor to feed off that instead of off you directly."

Harry frowned. "If it is just a shield, how can you drive them off? Why don't they just feed off of you until they are full?"

"If a Patronus is strong enough, it will take a physical form of an animal that will be strong enough to repel a dementor. They cannot abide that much happiness. It sickens them or something of that nature."

"How do you know?"

"I once had a conversation with a prominent member of the dementors who revealed that much to me after I had subdued it with my Patronus."

"Wow," Harry breathed.

"Did you have a pleasant summer with the Tonks family?"

Harry nodded with a grin. "They're the best family I could ever ask for. They make me forget my relatives sometimes."

Dumbledore was silent for a long moment. "Harry, I know that I have failed you tremendously while you were growing up and I wish to make that right."

Harry said nothing, waiting for him to continue.

"You do face a greater threat than any other wizard—even myself. If you are willing, I would like to train you in some more advanced magic in addition to your studies. Would you like that?"

"It's not like I don't already know more than any other third year in battle spells, Harry thought.

"What kind of advanced magic? Battle magic?"

"The first thing I would like to go over with you is what I have learned about Tom Riddle's history. I have been busy with research for years, but I redoubled my efforts this summer after you encountered his . . . Memory in the diary."

Harry had had enough. "You mean his Horcrux?"

Dumbledore paled. "H-How do you know that word?"

The raven-haired wizard wanted to tell Dumbledore everything just to see the Headmaster pale further. Maybe he would have a heart attack. No. That was probably too harsh.

"I never told you, but that is what Tom called the diary. He only said it once. I went to Diagon Alley and read what they were in a Dark Arts book. I know they are containers for a Dark Wizard's soul."

"And do you know what it takes to create one?" Dumbledore asked hesitantly.

"Murder." The simple word seemed to make the air chill. He quickly added, "I know there's a certain spell that has to be cast during the creation of the Horcrux but killing anyone with the Killing Curse would do it I guess."

"Yes." Dumbledore clasped his hands behind his back. "You have been busy, Harry. I'm even told that you were seen more than a few times going to Gringotts. Would you mind telling me what reason you might have to see the goblins that often?"

"No, sir. I don't think it's any of your business. What I do during the summer hols is mine. If I want to hang out at Gringotts all day long and they don't mind, I can do so."

Harry was trying to keep the anger at Dumbledore's pretentious attitude. Was this how he treated everyone and they just gave up any information he asked for?

"That is true. I was merely curious, Harry." Dumbledore gave him a strange look. "I see you remain distrustful of me."

"It takes a while to regain trust, Professor. If it helps, I forgive you about dropping the ball about the Dursleys."

A small sigh of relief left Dumbledore's lips. "Thank you, Harry. That is very kind of you. What do you think of the lessons?"

"I need to know as much as possible as quickly as I can," Harry said. "If we do lessons, I don't want to be just looking at a single memory a night and calling it good. I also expect to learn advanced magic soon and not just wait until the end of term. We could start with that Patronus you mentioned. It's not like I don't need it. The Dementors are going to be around for awhile."

Dumbledore hesitated. "The Patronus is very difficult. It will take some time to master."

"I'll just ask Professor Lupin to teach me then," Harry retorted.

The Headmaster pressed his lips together. "Very well. I will train you on the Patronus tomorrow after your classes. Come to my office."

"Thank you, sir," Harry said sincerely. "I know you may not think so, but I am ready to learn this stuff."

Dumbledore nodded. "Regrettably that is the case, and you have proved that you are more than up to the task of dealing with the Dark Arts."

"I won't disappoint you," Harry promised.


	19. Chapter 19: The Marauders

Harry stood in an unused classroom with Professor Dumbledore. Between them was a large chest with ten strange locks on it. He knew the boggart was inside.

"Are you quite certain you want to do this?" Dumbledore gave him a sympathetic look. "After all, you have only been released from Madame Pomfrey four hours ago.

"I don't need to wait around and we've already talked all about the Patronus."

"Are you ready, Harry?"

The young wizard nodded as he focused on his happiest memory. He remembered the way his heart had hammered in his chest as he kissed Hermione for the first time. It was surprising how much relief he had felt. She liked him and wanted him.

Dumbledore waved his hand and the locks opened in unison. The lid sprang open and out flowed the boggart. In two blinks of the eye, it warped into a Dementor. As the temperature dropped by twenty degrees, Harry felt it pull against his mind.

The faint voice of a woman screaming began to form in his mind. He ruthlessly shoved it away and refocused on Hermione. She was his anchor.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" He shouted. White streams of magic flowed from his holly wand and formed a shield in front of him.

The boggart bashed its skeletal fist against the positive energy shield before Harry forced it back into the chest. With a wave of his hand, Dumbledore closed the chest and the locks clicked into place.

"That was quite remarkable," the Headmaster said after a few moments. "I must say I didn't expect you to get it right on the first try."

Harry nodded with a grin. "Great. What's next?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "We went over the theory behind it and you have successfully cast a Patronus shield. You will need to focus more and you will be able to cast full corporeal Patronus."

"What do you think it will be?"

"I would not hazard a guess." Dumbledore sat back down at his desk. "In any case, we are finished for tonight. I think that we should meet in a few days to see if you can cast a corporeal Patronus."

Harry knew when he was being dismissed. "Alright. See you then, Professor."

He started to make his way to Gryffindor Tower but paused. Before he could change his mind, he wandered down to the Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom. A minute later, he stood in the doorway to Professor Lupin's office, unsure of whether to barge in or knock quietly. He wanted to speak to the DADA professor as soon as he could. There were too many questions left unanswered.

He rapped on the door with a wince.

"Come in."

The young wizard took a breath and strode through the room with feigning calm.

Lupin gave him a look of concern. "Harry? Are you feeling alright? I thought you would have been well rested by now."

A thousand questions mulled themselves over in Harry's head with a thousand pathways that the conversation could go. If Hermione were here-which Harry was suddenly realizing would have been better-she would have known exactly what to ask.

Lupin took a step closer to him.

"I know," Harry blurted.

The professor cocked an eyebrow. "I'm going to need a little more than that I'm afraid. Being a professor doesn't make me a mind reader."

"I know, sir. I'm not afraid of you."

Lupin frowned. "That's an odd thing to say. Has anyone said that I'm scary? I would have thought that would be Severus' area of expertise."

Harry gathered his magic, ready if the worst should happen. "I know about your little furry problem."

Shock and fear flashed across Lupin's face. "How?"

"Black Black told me," Harry replied.

"What?!"

"Not so loud, sir." Harry glanced back at the door.

"Harry, he's trying to kill you," Lupin snapped.

"Then why didn't he try when I was in Hogsmeade? Hermione and Neville were there too, and he made no threatening moves."

"Does he still say he's innocent?"

Harry nodded. "I'm not sure if he is or isn't. I just think an innocent man would have acted exactly as he did. Maybe I'd be a bit madder than he was if I ever went to Azkaban."

"So what do you want from me?" Lupin asked.

"I need you to meet him and see if you think he's innocent. If you think he's as guilty as they say, we'll stun him and hand him over to the Dementors."

"We?"

"I'm better than my first two years coursework says. I've taken on Voldemort three times now. With you at my side, what's one crazy Animagus?"

Lupin gritted his teeth. "Fine. When did you have in mind?"

"How about tonight? I could meet you just before curfew."

"Just you then?" A small smile played at the edges of Lupin's lips.

"No, I'd better bring Hermione. She'll be fuming as it is that I dared to take on the big bad werewolf by myself."

"Not so loud," Lupin said, echoing Harry's early warning. "The students obviously don't know. The second they do, I'll be out on my ear. Dumbledore will have no choice."

"He could do something about it if he wanted. It just matters how far he's willing to stick his neck out."

"You don't seem to like the Headmaster much, do you?"

Harry shrugged. "He neglected looking after me, and I didn't come out without any scars."

"Scars?" Lupin glanced at Harry's forehead.

Harry's face hardened. "Not all scars are where you can see them, professor."

Lupin gave him a pitying look. "I'm sorry, Harry. Your parents were my best friends. I should have been there for you. I just . . . let Dumbledore's excuse that you were looked after be enough not to step up."

Harry was torn between wanting to comfort Lupin and blasting him with the strongest stunner he could. In the end, he knew that he needed to say something.

"I'll see you tonight, professor. Maybe more than just Black Black's choices will look different after we have all the facts."

Lupin gave a light chuckle. "Sounds like something your mother would have said."

Harry shrugged. "Well, you would know, sir. I never really knew them."

That seemed to pain Lupin more than any other part of the conversation.

"We'll be here tonight, sir. Bye." Harry opened the door and left the werewolf professor to his regrets.

* * *

Harry, Hermione, and Lupin met as they agreed and made their way through the grounds. Hermione seemed to be in a better mood but she had been furious that Harry had just walked into a potentially dangerous situation. He had accepted the lecture that followed without complaint. Despite his wandless magic, he had not been one hundred percent certain what their werewolf professor would do.

"I thought we were going to Hogsmeade," Hermione said.

"There's a shortcut that was made for me when I started school here. That's why people think the shack is haunted. It was just me howling during my transformations."

"Huh." Harry glanced over at Hermione and saw she too thought that that made a lot more sense than ghosts.

They entered the Shrieking Shack and Lupin drew in a breath at the sight of his old friend sitting on one of the rickety chairs. His face paler than normal, he seemed caught between trying to throttle him or waiting for-something.

"Damn Remus, you look like shit."

The ghost of a smile touched the werewolf's lips. "You might want to check yourself in the mirror, you mangy mutt."

Black grinned. "Guess the pup told you I wanted to plead my case."

"I am willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. Any tricks and you won't make it back to Azkaban. It obviously can't hold you."

"Well, it was Padfoot that saved me there. The Dementors are nightmares but they don't really care about dogs. Bit of a surprise but I was on a mission-to kill Wormtail."

Remus frowned. "Peter's dead, Sirius. Been dead since that Halloween night."

"That's what he wanted everyone to think. He was the Secret Keeper. It was my idea to switch at the last minute. After all, who would suspect Peter of being the Secret Keeper when there is you or me."

"You could've told me," Remus said.

"We weren't sure which side you were going to land on." Black ran a hand through his dirty hair. "You were hanging around other werewolves and Voldemort had promised them a life of freedom if they followed him."

"Did you all really think so little of me?" Remus asked. "Dumbledore was the one who asked me to scout them out. You were all there in the meeting."

"Lily and James did what they thought best for Harry. I should've stood up for you. I'm sorry, Remus." He lowered his head a few inches.

Lupin pinched the bridge of his nose. "You say that Peter was the Secret Keeper but where's your proof?"

"He's at Hogwarts," Black said. "Back in his Animagus form with the Weasley boy."

"Is he?" Lupin said in an even tone. "And what happens if I perform the reversal spell and nothing happens."

"I'll let the Dementors give me the Kiss."

Hermione gasped, and Harry's expression hardened.

"If I'm as mad as they all thought then I have nothing left to live for." Black risked a glance at Harry. "It was worth it to see Harry."

"I didn't think you'd give up so easily," Harry said.

Black said nothing.

Hermione placed her hand on Harry's shoulder. "Think about it, Harry. If everyone thought I died and you killed Ron for it, wouldn't you feel defeated too."

With a start, he realized that she was right. The thought of Hermione being dead twisted up his guts. If Ron ever did something similar than Pettigrew, Harry would earn a place in Azkaban. The memory of the boggart flashed in his mind and halted the dark train of thought.

"Did you do like I asked, Harry?" Black looked down at his empty hands.

"It was enough of a trick to get Professor Lupin here."

"Oh." Black' frown relaxed into a dejected expression.

Harry waited for a few more seconds and said, "Now!"

With a flourish, an invisibility cloak fell to the floor. Where it had been stood a triumphant Ron Weasley. In his hand was a wired cage that housed a frantic rat.

"Scabbers doesn't like this at all." Ron looked at Harry. "You sure about this?"

"That's him," Black said.

"I'm sure, Ron."

Ron set the cage on the floor.

Hermione shook her head. "As glad as I am that you made up, isn't this a bit too theatrical?"

Black chuckled. "Just like James and Lily."

"Alright," Lupin said. "Let's see what the truth is."

He pointed his wand at the cage and flicked it once. The little door opened and the rat sprang out as if he was on fire. Lupin did not let that distract him, his keen eyes locked on the errant rodent.

"Transuerso Animago!" He said. A blue spell burst from his wand and struck the rat.

It rolled over against a broken chair. With a swirl of magic, a pudgy, balding man a little taller than Harry stood. He looked at Lupin and then Black before giving a squeak. In a rush to get away, he tripped over the fall pieces of wood and toppled over.

Black was on him in an instant, his hand tight on Pettigrew's throat. "I've got you, at last, you sneaky bastard."

"Sirius, please." Pettigrew's eyes flashed over to Lupin. "Remus, don't let him kill me!"

Lupin sighed. "That's enough, Sirius."

"No."

Harry gathered his magic. If there was going to be a scuffle, he would protect Ron and Hermione first then go after Pettigrew. It might not actually come to it but Black seemed very determined to kill the rat.

"Dammit Padfoot, stop!" Lupin shouted.

Hermione stepped toward Black.

She strode calmly over to Black and laid her hand on his arm-the arm that was attached to the hand that was choking Pettigrew to death. She gazed at Black with utter calm until he finally looked at her.

"Think about Harry," she said. "Is this what you want to do with your freedom?"

Black jerked his hand back as if she had just told him he was touching acid. He swallowed and gave her a nod of respect.

With a small smile, she returned to Harry's side as if she hadn't just talked a man down from murdering someone. Harry wasn't sure which he felt more of: pride or terror.

"You're no good to me dead," Black said at last.

Pettigrew grinned. "Oh thank you, Padfoot."

Black put his foot on the smaller man's chest. "Never call me that again. You will always be Wormtail but you are no longer a Marauder."

"We should question him now," Harry said.

"I wouldn't trust him if he said water was wet," Lupin countered. "No, we'll be taking you to Severus for some Veritaserum. Severus was always so fond of you, wasn't he?"

Pettigrew gulped. Loudly.

With a few flicks of his wand, Lupin had Pettigrew in a Body Bind and levitating beside them. The five members of their strange party made their way back to the castle with their prisoner bobbing along.

"You've grown so much, Harry," Black said. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I let my anger get the better of me. Even if I hadn't been sent to Azkaban it was wrong of me."

Harry wanted to be angry with him, tell him that he really had been stupid and how anyone else would've called for backup or something. But Harry knew in the depths of his soul that if he had been in Black's shoes, he might've killed Pettigrew. He wasn't even sure if he would feel that guilty about it and that truly terrified him.

"It's fine," he said. "You shouldn't have been locked up anyway."

"I don't know if you know this or not." He glanced at Harry. "I'm your godfather and if I hadn't gone to prison, you would've lived with me."

"Oh." A fresh wave of anger rose up to wipe out any sympathy he had for the man. "Well, thanks for that."

"I know it can't have been easy living in the Wizarding World and-"

"I didn't."

"What?"

"I was sent to the Dursley's," Harry snapped. "They hate magic and tried to beat it out of me. I lived in a cupboard under the stairs until I got my Hogwarts letter. Then I got a room with a cat flap where they could leave me scraps. I worked hard and all I got for it was abuse. You could've saved me from all of that."

Black was speechless for several seconds. "Petunia? Dumbledore had Hagrid take you to Petunia's house?"

"What?"

"I was the one to find you in your house that night. Hagrid showed up as I was leaving and said he was on orders by Dumbledore to take you to a safe location."

"They left on the doorstep with a letter . . . a damn letter. That's all."

"But why?"

Harry shrugged. "Ask Dumbledore. I'm sure he will have a reason or at least a way to get out of the conversation."

"I will." Black sighed. "Harry I . . . I'm so sorry. If I could go back in time and do it all differently I would. I've wanted to for 12 years but even more so now. I'm so sorry. No one should have to be treated like that."

"No," Hermione said as she squeezed Harry's hand. "No one should. If not for Harry almost dying, he would still be there."

Harry shook his head. "I think that if the blood ward hadn't been broken, he still would've sent me back there. He has good intentions I think, but he is naive about how cruel people can be."

They walked in silence for several long minutes before Black asked, "After I'm a free man, would I be able to visit you? I know I've messed things up, but I want to start to make it right."

Harry hesitated. He wanted to hold onto his anger and lash out at yet another adult who failed him. But it was the smooth fingers intertwined in his that reminded him that good things can be there if you just reach out and take them. He nearly blew a chance with Hermione because of a stupid prank. Maybe Black should get a second chance too.

"I'm not promising anything until this all gets sorted," Harry said. "But I'd like to get to know you too."

Black grinned and let out a big breath that smelled foul. Harry almost asked Hermione if her parents could do anything for him. It might be beyond the reach of dentistry.

They reached the dungeons and made their way down the long corridor to the Potions Lab. A strong smell wafted through the air just before Remus knocked twice on the brown oak door.

"Who's there?" Snape's voice called out.

Lupin said, "It's me, Severus. I need to speak with you about a matter of vital importance."

"Fine."

The door creaked open and out stepped the Potion Master. He saw Black and his eyes bulged. In the blink of an eye, he had his wand out and pressed against the fugitive's throat.

"I knew you would betray us, Lupin."

Black grinned. "You might want to check all our members, Snivellus."

Cold fury burned in Snape's dark eyes. "Are you that ready to die, Black?"

Harry glared at Black. "You're not helping this situation at all, idiot."

With an abashed look, Black gestured toward their floating prisoner. "See for yourself, Snape. Sorry about the old nickname."

Snape's eyes flicked to Pettigrew before they returned to Black. "Don't move or I'll kill you."

Black winked at him. "You're the boss."

The Potions Master glared at him for a moment before he stepped over to Pettigrew. With a wave of his wand, the spells that held him in place ended.

The traitor plopped onto the ground with a groan. His eyes fell on Snape and the blood drained from his face.

"Well well, Peter," said Snape. "The last time I saw you was in the presence of the Dark Lord. I am certain you would like to catch up with an old friend. I have just the drink that I insist you try."

Pettigrew squeaked and pressed himself against the far wall of the corridor. "N-no. Please, Severus."

Snape grinned, a twisted and unsettling look on his usually dour face. "I insist."


End file.
